Conviction
by Darth Siva
Summary: Post-Avengers. It is the duty of the Æsir to safeguard the Nine Realms and keep peace in the universe. Thanos wages war on Midgard and the Sons of Odin must take up their sacred charge. Loki must bear arms, side-by-side with Earth's own heroes, against the Mad Titan and the darkness in his own mind. Loki-centric. Eventual FrostIron. Universe 7437.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hello, and welcome to my fanfiction. This story will be Loki-centric with a possibility of FrostIron (Or IronFrost, if I'm feeling it) later on. Starting out, I'm putting everyone in place. Thor and Loki are in Asgard, and the rest of the Avengers are back on Midgard, settling into life after Loki. I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers. **

* * *

**Conviction**

* * *

Prologue

* * *

The sun streamed through the high branches of the trees above, casting pale shadows over the brightly colored flowers of the garden. The calmness and quietude of the place stilled Loki's nerves and soothed his senses, and so he would often be found sitting beneath the largest of the trees, surrounded by the scents of nature. He sat cross-legged with a long forgotten book in his lap, dull green eyes half-lidded, and hand ghosting over blades of grass. He breathed deeply the rich air, a smile tugging at his lips. Forgetting was nice; forgetting was simpler.

"Here you are, brother!"

But forgetting was not allowed.

Loki glanced up through thick lashes at Thor's approach, but did not move a muscle, a bitter taste coming to his mouth and a sickness to his gut, breaking the peace of the garden. Tension knotted in his shoulders as Thor came up to him quickly, a deceptively passive expression on his face. Loki was not quite sure if it was a dark frown or a beaming grin that attempted to overtake his features. Sometimes it was hard to tell if he was still struggling with the events of three months ago. In the early days of their return to Asgard, when Loki had been confined to one magically warded room, Thor had visited every day without fail, but there was a simmering anger beneath his peaceful approach.

Loki had allowed bitterness to swallow him for these past months, speaking not a word to Thor, nor to Frigga who also came to see him. Thor made attempts at coaxing him to speak, but he gave nothing. Often, Thor would storm out in anger or frustration. Loki ignored the dull ache in his heart when, even after such days, Thor would always return the next.

Sentiment.

He forced thoughts of bitterness and rage and anger and resentment for days upon days and in the end he just found himself weary. He was tired of being angry. He was drained and weak and so, after two months in that room, he finally uttered the first words he'd spoken since his capture on Midgard to Thor, who jerked his head up in surprise. His throat burned from disuse, his words coming out cracked and dry.

"May I... go to the gardens?"

It was such a pathetic request, but Loki could not bring himself to care. Thor had been enthusiastic, persuading Odin to allow it, and for a while he sat there with Loki as he read or leaned back against a tree and slept in the relative peace of the gardens. The conditions were well worth it, although the binding runes carved to his arm still burned somewhat. After a long while of no more words, Thor seemed disheartened and would leave him in peace during his visits to the garden, the attending guards keeping watch over him. It was easy, however, to get lost in the maze of trees and flowers, and Loki would make an effort to do so, finding somewhere secluded to be in silence. It did not escape his notice that the guards would not follow him.

Were they truly no longer afraid of him? Loki remembered the day he returned, people shying away and guards shifting uncomfortably in his presence. Loki had not looked in a mirror for some time, perhaps his tiredness was more evident than he thought. Again, he could not quite bring himself to care. The feeling of tiredness and apathy was familiar. It reminded him of those last seconds gripping Gungnir before he let go.

"Lost in your mind, brother?" Thor's voice broke into his weary musings.

Loki mustered a withering glare, to which his not-brother (even that was becoming tiring to think) rolled his eyes. His anger was an old one, anyway, a halfhearted one. Loki looked down and feigned interest in the text that lay open in his lap, flipping the page idly, forcing back the feeling.

"Brother, please," The desperate edge to Thor's tone made Loki pause, hazarding a glance back at the thunderer. He looked tired. As tired as Loki felt.

Loki closed the book gently, setting it beside him and tilting his head up to face Thor properly. The god smiled at his effort, seemingly gladdened by the small gesture.

Sentiment.

"Brother, I require your counsel," Thor said.

Loki let a small, bitter smile turn the corners of his lips.

"_My_ counsel?" He said, breaking silence for the second time since returning, "You wish my counsel so that you may ignore it and charge off on some ridiculous quest anyway, as always?"

Thor barked a laugh, the sound startling Loki enough that his hand twitched slightly.

"Your counsel has gotten us in as much trouble listened to as ignored, brother," Thor gave him a long, meaningful look, amusement dancing behind his eyes.

Loki bit back a teasing retort. Too much. It hurt to remember. Forgetting was easier.

"What do you need of me, Odinson?" Loki said shortly in clipped tones. Thor flinched. Loki fought his own.

"Brother," He emphasized the word heavily, "With the Bifröst broken, travel across the realms has become very difficult, requiring the use of powerful dark magics. The tesseract has been shut away, father has forbidden its use."

"You want to know if there is another way," Loki said knowingly. Thor was ridiculously easy to read. He was returned to Midgard and then whisked away before he could even say hello to his little mortal. The hypocrisy of the rising anger at the thought of her was not lost on him.

"Please, brother," Thor pleaded, "I left Midgard vulnerable, and the Chitauri are no doubt preparing to war against them. I must return."

"So, it is not my counsel you seek, but my magic," Loki sneered, "Even if I wished to help you, I could not."

Lie.

"I could find another to perform the spell-"

"Only Odin would know such a spell and clearly, he has denied your return."

Lie.

"Is there no other way?"

"No."

Lie.

Thor sighed deeply, regretfully. He turned his gaze away from Loki, sadness creeping over his face. Loki felt a pang of sympathy, but shrugged it off. Many times had he seen a lover die, and he misses them all, but Loki shall not allow such thoughts to give way to pity for Thor and his feelings for that mortal. Peace. He just wanted peace. It hurt to feel, it hurt more than it ever had before, and silence of his mind was the only thing keeping him sane. Loki let his head fall against the tree at his back, closing his eyes. He felt, rather than saw, Thor sit down beside him, and his body stiffened involuntarily. He tried to shake it off.

"Loki," Thor said softly, "We have been brothers for over a thousand years. I know the pitch of your voice and the turn of your words. I know when you are lying to me."

"Not so," Loki said bitterly, defenses of sharp words leaping to action, "You said yourself, once, a long time ago, that I am incapable of sincerity. Yet, you believe many of my lies to be truths. You believed that Odin was dead. You believed that it was _your_ idea to march into Jötunheim. Although, it was not _my_ idea to _stay_ there and start a war. And you believed me when I told you to never doubt that I love you."

"I never have," Thor said, with a certainty in his voice that had Loki blinking back a stinging in his eyes, "And it _was_ my idea to go to Jötunheim, I had decided upon it before you even spoke. I believed you about father because I was lost and upset and it was a lie so mired in truths that it was too painful to see. You are a talented liar, Loki, but you _are_ capable of sincerity. I know it. I have seen it. My words were thoughtless and harsh."

Loki laughed darkly.

"And how would you know of my love?" He asked, "What makes you think I wasn't lying about that?"

"Because Midgard lies free," Thor said.

There it was. Loki felt his throat begin to close and his hands gripped the book in his lap tightly.

"I know when you are lying, brother," Thor continued, purposefully, shifting closer to Loki, "And I know that not a word of truth passed your lips while we were on Midgard."

"_You lack conviction."_

"You did not believe a word of what you said, Loki," Thor went on, ignoring Loki's wide-eyed unfocused stare.

"Shut up," He hissed.

"You are better at lying to _yourself_," Thor pressed mercilessly, "Than you are to anyone else."

"I said, _shut up!_" Loki turned violently toward the thunderer, breath coming in gasps. His head throbbed and he brought a hand to his forehead, shutting his eyes tightly. Thor took him by the shoulders roughly, drawing him close.

"_No_, Loki," Thor said, "No more. No more lying. Please, Loki, you are my brother, and I love you. You have done terrible things. Let us, together, make it _right_."

Thor choked slightly, and Loki ignored the trickle of something that began to make its way down his face.

"_Please_, brother," Thor rasped, "I miss you so deeply that it burns. I beg you to give me a chance to fix it. It breaks my heart to see you so lost. When Heimdall said you were on Midgard, that you were alive. I thought I would burst from joy. Oh, Loki, I am so sorry for whatever you believe I have driven you to. This madness behind your eyes is tearing you apart; please let me help. All I ask is a chance."

Loki breathed deeply, beating back the painful hurricane of emotions and stared silently, tiredly at his brother. Still arrogant. Still selfish. Still unseeing. A half-crazed grin tugged at his lips and he laughed brokenly.

"Leave me, Thor," He said, breathlessly, "I have run out of chances."

"Brother-"

"I am not your brother," Loki cut him off quietly, falling heavily back against the tree, slipping from Thor's grasp. He stared ahead at the golden chrysanthemums that shone before him for a moment before his eyes slipped shut, blocking out the world. Thor stood, thundering steps evidencing his retreat.

"You will always be my brother."

Forget. It's easier.

* * *

_Two and a half months ago_

"You son of a bitch," The words were whispered harshly and followed by the rough slam of the door, "You told us he-"

"You needed the push," Fury said solemnly, looking at the man who lay quietly on the bed, "Technically, I could say it was his idea."

"The _push?_" Tony hissed at him, "You didn't need to let us think Coulson was dead just to make us do what needed to be done."

"We didn't know if he was going to survive, anyway," Fury said, offhand, "It's nothing short of a miracle that he's still alive, that his heart and lungs were barely damaged. Regardless of what you say, it never would have worked if you didn't have something to avenge."

"He's going to be alright, though?" Tony asked, sharply.

"I think I'll be fine, Mr. Stark," Tony looked sharply to the source of the voice. Coulson's eyes were open, "It's not polite to shout when someone's trying to sleep."

"It's not polite to play dead," Tony bit out, sarcastic tone off put with a belying smile, "You get to tell Pepper. She cried for three straight hours."

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Phil said.

"You know," Tony mused, "You still haven't explained how you know each other so well, _Phil_."

"She has to have someone to complain to about you," Phil said with that smile of his that made it all suddenly real that he was alive and well and right in front of him.

Tony reached out a hand and set it on Phil's shoulder, fixing him with a serious look.

"I'm glad you're alright," He said.

Phil gave a thin-lipped smile, though it seemed a little softer than the usual.

"Yeah," He quipped lightly, "me too."

* * *

_One week later._

Candy land, Tony had described it as.

Not far off.

Peace was something that Bruce Banner seldom found. He found temporary shelters, and left before they became home. Home wasn't something he could afford to have. It meant that there were people he could hurt, and the longer he stayed the greater the risk became. But this? Looking over the arc-reactor blueprints and reconstructions and improvements from the original to the one running the tower, he felt the familiar calm that came with work, and he thought that he could do this. He could stay here.

Tony Stark was a genius, Bruce thought wryly; of that there was no doubt. He had managed to snare him where all others had failed. The man's constant poking and prodding (sometimes _literally_) became a welcome part of his day. Pepper was pleasant company, as was Phil (He hadn't known the man well, but he liked him enough that he hugged him when he came back from the dead), who came around quite frequently lately. There was another, Rhodie, he thinks, that visits Tony regularly, but they hadn't really gotten the chance to chat. He's caught snippets of their conversations that lead him to believe this to be a very old friend that shows up to assert that Tony is alive and kicking.

The door to the lab slid open and Bruce looked up briefly, then did a double take. Clint Barton walked into the lab, seemingly without a care in the world, glancing around the room with a low whistle. Bruce let his surprise overtake his features.

"Agent Barton," He said, pulling off his glasses and wiping them idly on his shirt, "What a surprise."

"Nice digs," Clint said, leaning against a desk nearby, "You know. For science-y people."

"Well," Bruce said with a laugh, "Tony certainly knows how to live. So, what brings you to Stark Tower?"

"This and that," Clint says, waving a hand noncommittally.

"Tony's up on twelfth if-"

"How do you stand it?" Clint asked suddenly, staring at Bruce intently, "How do you walk around knowing that you hurt people, _killed _them. Good people."

Straight to the point, then. The painfully sharp, jagged edged point. The haunting in Clint's eyes was horribly familiar; he remembered seeing it in the mirror on the low days. On the really low days. There was an edge to his tone that left Bruce feeling not quite alone in his suffering, but that wasn't as comforting as he thought it might be. It hurt to see someone so low. As low as he can remember being. Lets-go-jump-off-of-Stark-Tower low.

Where was Agent Romanoff when you needed her?

Off shutting portals to other dimensions, probably.

"By running, mostly," Bruce answers, finally, "When you're running, there's not much time for thinking, and you're not surrounded by people constantly reminding you what you did. But you're not one to run away, are you? No, you need to get straight to the part where you realize that it wasn't you and that you can't do this to yourself."

"That's what Tasha said," Clint said, frowning slightly down at the floor, "But she's wrong. Because I was completely conscious of everything going on around me, I just... didn't care. I could tell you more about the Tesseract than I understand, I could tell you every move I made when we stormed the Helicarrier, I could tell you the exact damn shade of that crazy son of a bitch's eyes – Oh, damn! I never got to put an arrow in his eye socket."

"Believe it or not, that anger is what makes all the difference," Bruce said, "You realize that it was Loki that did all those things, and you're pissed off at him. You can't start doubting that every time someone looks at you funny. And maybe spend a little less time on the Helicarrier. Lord knows there's room _here_."

Clint laughed shortly.

"If there's a decent shooting range in this building somewhere, sign me up," He said, with a half grin, finally meeting Bruce's eyes. He seemed much calmer, and Bruce breathed a soft sigh of relief.

"It wouldn't surprise me," Bruce replied with a roll of his eyes, "I doubt Tony would mind you staying, but if you want to ask, like I said, he's on the twelfth."

"Thanks," Clint said, pushing away from the desk, and Bruce knew the depth of that simple word. Clint left the lab in much higher spirits, leaving Bruce to further contemplate this new place he liked to call home, and the family that was slowly building up around him.

* * *

_Three days later._

The invitation was open, but Steve hesitated to take it. Stark Tower would certainly be the place to get slapped in the face by modern technology, something he sorely needed, but...

He couldn't look at Tony without seeing Howard, and he knew that Tony doesn't deserve that.

It's not just what _is_ Howard that hurts, either. It's all the ways that he _isn't_ and Steve feels sick with guilt every time he thinks 'Howard wouldn't have done that'. He can't help it, though. Howard had been a true friend, and he _misses_ him, damn it. And, even though he _knows_ Tony is his own person, isn't even close to a shadow of his father, and he trusts the man with his life, with the world, he just can't help it. He feels terrible about it; horrible.

The punching bag flew into the wall and broke open with a sharp rip of fabric, sand beginning to pour out.

He really has to stop doing that.

He wants to be friends with Tony, he really does. He's a genuinely good guy underneath the bravado and attitude. He's got this wit and fondness for sarcasm and dry humor that reminds Steve of Bucky, and this passion, especially in anger, that reminds him of Peggy-

Oh, hell. The man was all the ghosts of his past wrapped into one convenient package. Steve fell against a wall heavily, sliding to the floor and burying his head in his hands. It was all a terrible mess. An obnoxious buzzing sound came from his bag suddenly, and Steve rubbed his eyes tiredly, grabbing at it and pulling out the cellphone Tony had gifted him with. He pressed the button on the screen and put it to his ear. It is absolutely ridiculous how many things Tony told him this phone could do. Steve stuck to using it as a _phone_ for now.

"So, Barton moved in," Tony's voice drifted over the line, making Steve contemplate a new adaptation of 'Speak of the devil and he shall come' ('Think of the devil and he shall call'), "I'm thinking I should just rename the place Avenger's Tower and be done with it."

"Hey, Tony," Steve greeted simply, a small smile playing at his lips as Tony continued on.

"But, I'm narcissistic, so I wont. When are you planning to get settled here? Clint kind of highjacked the room I thought you'd want, sorry about that. Had the best view of the city. JARVIS has all your details in the system already, so whenever you're ready-"

Steve almost laughed. Tony Stark might play host to all of his ghosts but the man also knew how to make him feel welcome better than anyone. Steve wondered what made him think for a second that he wouldn't be living at Stark Tower.

"I'll be there in an hour."

* * *

_One week later._

"Where's Barton?"

"I gave him leave," Fury bit out, "After all he's been through, I'm surprised he didn't ask sooner."

"You're supposed to be monitoring him," One of the council shot back, "He was under Loki's control for days, and the initial Psyche exam judged him unstable. Where is he?"

"You always judge him unstable," Fury growled, "You hate that he's here, you hate that he's an agent, and you're just looking for excuses to watch him or get rid of him, just like you have been from the beginning."

"Your attitude does you no favors, Director," Another spoke darkly, "You refuse to answer for the Avengers, you let a war criminal leave the planet with the Tesseract, and now you refuse to keep watch on a compromised agent."

"Agent Barton doesn't need to be watched," Fury said, "And if you don't have anything else to talk about, then I suggest you leave us alone."

With that, Fury cut the call, stalking away from the monitors in frustration. Leaving the room, a quick glance out of the corner of his eye revealed Natasha leaning against the wall just outside.

"Where's Barton?"

"Stark Tower."

_One month later._

"Stop hogging the popcorn, Tasha."

"I can have JARVIS make more."

"It's the principle of the thing, Stark."

"It's just popcorn, Clint, go make some more."

"Principle!"

"Seriously, I can just tell JARVIS to-"

"They're not listening to you, Tony."

"A man can dream."

"Is anyone even watching the movie anymore?"

Tony held back an affectionate smile as the scene around him unfolded. Natasha and Clint bickered on the largest couch, and Bruce looked at them with an expression torn between amusement and exasperation. Steve was actually the only one still watching the screen in front of them, enraptured by the special effects, no doubt. It was a bit of a shame that Thor wasn't here, he hadn't really had an opportunity to get to know the guy at all.

Of course, they were a bit preoccupied with his brother. Tony glanced at the repaired windows. It was, in fact, in this very room that the Defenestration of Tony Stark occurred. Also, a relatively civil and slightly amusing conversation with (threatening of) the Norse God of Mischief. You know, before the defenestration. Damn, now he wanted shawarma. One of the greatest things about being Tony Stark:

"JARVIS, order us some shawarma," He called over the rising voices of the other Avengers, he glanced at Natasha and Clint, the former of which was at the edge of the couch holding a bowl of popcorn away from the latter, "And put in another bowl of popcorn."

Clint sent a glare in his direction.

"Of course, sir," JARVIS replied, sweet, sweet, wise-ass AI, "Will that be all?"

"For now," Tony said, standing and walking over to his bar.

He pulled down his favorite single malt and a glass, the noise of the movie fading under the sound of the bickering assassins. How on Earth he came to the conclusion that it would be a good idea for them all to live here at Stark Tower he'll never even begin to comprehend. It's not like he didn't get out to Malibu for some alone time, though, so it wasn't unbearable. Bruce was useful to have around, and was actually a full-time employee now.

It's entirely possible that Bruce didn't know that, but lord knows it's nice to have someone to speak science with, and Tony can be grateful when he feels like it.

Clint and Natasha would not be found apart, and it seemed that they'd both gotten extended leave (you earn that kind of thing when you save the world) so they were always around. Natasha was her usual, beautiful, surly self, though he'd seen her laugh a grand total of five times in the last month. Clint seemed to have a positive effect on her.

Steve kept to himself the most out of all of them. He was constantly bewildered by just about everything around him, as was evidenced by the look on his face as he watched the movie in fascination. He didn't seem too keen on going out much, though. Baby steps.

Inviting them all to stay here was convenient, Tony decided. It was for them. They all needed somewhere to relax and take a break. Clint and Natasha needed to get away from it all for a while, Clint especially. Bruce needed something to focus his attention on, work and intelligent conversation, and somewhere he can maybe call home without fear. Steve needed somewhere to find his place in the world again. This was for them. All for them, because they saved the world together, and he kind of couldn't take _all_ the credit, and they deserved this. Them.

This was not, by any means, a forty-some-number-he-didn't-want-to-think-about year old man's promise of a family.

* * *

A/N: Reviews, please?


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Posting same day as prologue, because I thought the prologue was a bit too bland to just leave on its own.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers.**

* * *

**Conviction**

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

It was a well-worn anger that flew to the surface at Thor's approach. An old, familiar, halfhearted anger. It was an anger wreathed in exasperation and amusement and annoyance and affection. The familiarity of it made his heart throb almost painfully, and he buried the feeling deeply. It was all too easy. Old feelings climbed their way up and Loki kept his firm apathy to push them back. What was the point of any of it, anyway? Thor was just as ignorant as ever, Odin's disappointed gaze never faltered, and his 'friends' (Thor's friends) looked to him as the traitor.

Why bother, when nothing had changed?

"Brother."

He did not respond. It seemed to be the best way of dealing with Thor. Whenever he made the mistake of opening his mouth it ended up hurting. Perhaps he should ask to have his lips sewn shut again, to remind him of this.

"Brother, that is enough," Thor's voice boomed suddenly, despite the lack of echo in the room, filled as it was with shelves and books and furniture, "I grow weary of your apathy. You are angry; speak as to your anger. Something besides this silence."

The slow burn began, true anger, same as he felt those days upon Midgard. Loki quashed the feeling, remaining silent. Faster than he could blink, he was lifted from where he sat on the ground, into the air by the collar of his tunic. Wide, dull emerald met fierce blue for a second before he was shoved to the wall, held by the neck. Never in hundreds of years had he seen Thor loose such anger upon him, and Loki found himself afraid. Afraid of a memory crawling up, and regretful that he had thought to himself for even a moment that he might wish his lips sewn shut again.

"You claim that this is my doing," Thor ground out as Loki regained his senses, the blur of Thor's face becoming steady, "That I have driven you to such anger and madness. Why? Why do you cling to these imagined slights?"

"_Imagined_ slights?" Loki hissed, anger overflowing his carefully place barriers with a force that left him reeling, "What occasions do _you_ think of, when speaking thus? Surely not the same as _I_. How blind and foolish you are. Oh, I know that you are these things; but to still look back and see the same that you have always seen, after how you claim to have changed? Changed when it was convenient to have changed. Changed to an unrecognizable creature at some moments, and the same arrogant, ignorant, bull-headed fool at others."

Oh, if only he could call upon his magic, then Thor would see. Loki would make him see, all those _imagined_ slights. Every terrible word, every cruel act. And still a thousand years he had looked upon Thor and called him brother and loved him helplessly. Thor growled, his grip loosening somewhat.

"Enlighten me, then!" Thor demanded, "What is it that _you_ see when you look back?"

"I see you mock my every small triumph!" Loki spoke fervently, harshly, "I remember when our _friends_ would laugh at my folly in training and you would turn and join them! I remember being passed the title as Command of the Guard when Odin deemed the position unfit for a son of his; for you! I remember standing in your great shadow, I remember the whispers and the glances. The Sly One. The Liar. The Snake. And you! _You_ who claimed kinship to me, brotherhood, _love_, didn't even see, or didn't even care."

"Loki, never have I intentionally caused you distress," Thor insisted, angry, ignorant eyes trained upon him, as if _Loki_ was the man blind, "I have never meant to hurt you."

"Oh I _know_, Thor," Loki whispered brokenly, "You never _intend_ anything. You're too much of an idiot to! I knew this, I knew you never meant the pain you caused me, and so I stood dutifully in your shadow for a thousand years. And, Odin help me, I _loved_ you dearly. For all your stupidity and your arrogance and your mockery, I _loved_ you."

"Then why did you never speak to me? Why never tell me of your pains?" Thor asked, anger fading to a broken sadness, letting Loki's feet touch the ground, "And why, after all this time, have you decided that you must seek vengeance for what you bore for a thousand years already?"

Loki barked a sharp laugh, startling Thor into loosing his grip entirely from his throat.

"Because, it was, all of it, a lie, wasn't it?" Loki looked down upon the floor, voice steadily rising as passionate anger rushed through him, "It all suddenly made _so much sense_. Odin always did favor you, as did all of Asgard. I am nothing but another stolen _trophy_ for his treasure room. There is a purpose in all that the All-Father does, and yes, he had a purpose for me. I was a tool, nothing more. Every word he said, oh, no, never was I meant to be king of Asgard, never was I meant to bring honor to his name, never was I meant to be _loved_ as you were, never was I meant to be anything more than a _pawn_ in his game of kings. I am a liar and a snake and I am the terrible creature that parents tell their children of at night. I _am_ a lie. Loki Odinson is a _lie. _He is something _wrong_ and _terrifying_ and you all _knew_ it in your _hearts_."

There was a stinging in his cheek as Thor's hand came sharply across his face, followed by an urgent shaking of his shoulders. Words tumbled from Thor's lips but Loki heard nothing. He gripped Thor's forearms tightly, nails digging into flesh.

"I thought I could prove to father, to myself, that it couldn't _possibly_ be _all_ a lie," Loki hissed quietly, voice breaking, "I thought I could prove that I was a true son of Asgard! That I could be king! I could be _everything_ Father always told me I was meant to be! But, no! No, I see now that I can never be good enough. I can never be your _equal_. It was all nothing but a _lie_. It was lie, upon lie, upon _lie_!"

Thor pulled his arms from Loki's grip, blood streaming from thin cuts and wrapped them tightly around his brother. Loki was silenced, shocked still, as Thor embraced him. He felt the wetness on his cheeks from tears that had begun to stream down his face without his permission. A warmth spread from his heart and he couldn't fight it off.

"No, Loki," Thor rasped, one hand threading in Loki's long hair, pulling his head down to rest on his shoulder, "_This_ was never a lie. You are my brother, regardless of blood, regardless of Odin, and regardless of what has happened. Never have I lied to you, my brother, and I will love you until the day of Ragnarok and forever beyond."

A sob wracked Loki's thin frame and he could no longer support his own weight as his knees buckled under him, pulling them both to the floor. A well of sadness and desperation rose within him as he shook in Thor's arms. And, oh, by the Nine Realms, how he remembered his love for Thor and his great heart. It was not his strength or his brightness or any of those other things that everyone saw in Thor that made him love his brother. It was his capacity for love, and his freely given affections that Loki loved. Thor had never known, how could his love be a lie? And even in the wake of such terrible knowledge...

"_You come home, brother."_

He was surely as blind as Thor. Where Thor saw not his sufferings, Loki saw not his fortune. This fool that held him had fought by his side, encouraged his magic and mischief, and always made known his love. He was rash and ignorant and _stupid_ but he loved. He loved deeply, and Loki was one whom he loved.

All his anger, all his bitterness and hatred and resentment, it seemed so foolish now. Oh, and the delusions he, in his all-consuming fury, conjured. He _never_ wanted to be king. But, when he suddenly possessed all he had been promised, all these things that he had learned was a lie... the entitlement, the need for such things grew from nothing. He wanted to keep it. He wanted to prove he deserved it. He wanted to prove that he was every bit the Son of Odin that Thor was. The hatred only festered as he realized what he would stand to lose at Thor's return, and in the end, still, he lost it all.

He almost lost Thor.

Despair overtook all else and he believed that letting go of Gungnir, falling into the shattered remains of the Bifröst to be torn apart by its chaotic energies was all that was left to him. But he was plucked from the tempest, his hatred fostered, saved by _him_-

"Thor," Loki whispered suddenly, sharply, remembering, "Brother, Midgard is in far greater danger than you imagine."

Thor pulled back slightly, concern lighting his features, overtaking his surprise and pleasure at hearing the word 'brother' fall from Loki's lips.

"Thanos," Loki breathed, "The Eternal One, he has returned. It was he who gave me the Chitauri to command, he who placed the scepter in my hands. I was but a tool to his vengeance upon the Nine Realms. The Gauntlet must be protected, kept from him!"

Horror dawned over Thor's face, and Loki was grateful for his brother's attention to detail when it came to their lessons about wars long past. He stood swiftly, dragging Loki with him. Loki felt as he did as a child, being pulled from the room roughly and onto the winding staircase. Thor's grip on his arm pressed tightly into the runes carved there and Loki remembered. He pulled up suddenly, using all his strength the keep from being dragged on. Thor stopped and looked back on him in confusion.

"Brother, we must go and warn father," Thor said, "We must do something!"

"What can _I_ do?" Loki said, wrenching his arm away and drawing up the sleeve. The skin around marks were an angry red from Thor's roughness and the runes glowed dimly acid green. The relief at freedom from anger crashed around Loki as he bared his weakness and helplessness. He still bore the consequences of his madness. Odin was not so foolishly forgiving as Thor, and, as a surge of bitterness hit him, Loki was not so sure that he wanted him to be.

"Father will see the necessity of your freedom," Thor insisted hotly, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, "I shall not march to battle without you at my side, brother."

"Ever the fool," Loki said, chuckling bitterly, "We are still in the court of discretion. Thanos has yet to reveal himself. He works from shadows to undo the Nine Realms. There is no war, brother."

"And who better to see me through those shadows to our enemy, than you?" Thor said, a grin spreading across his face, shaking his brother shortly, "We will fight together as we once did."

"You do not _understand_, Thor," Loki said, shaking his head, "Odin will insist we wait for Thanos to make his move. Yes, he will hide away the Gauntlet. But, he will not release me from my binds. He knows my trickery too well. Then, he will wait."

"Midgard will burn while he waits!" Thor exclaimed, wide-eyed and fearful.

"There is nothing we can do without defying-" Loki paused, resisting the immense urge to hit himself. Thor beamed.

"No, no, no, no," Loki pleaded, struck by terrible remembrance of the last time he uttered those very words, "I know what you're thinking."

Thor's grin only widened.

"If Father will not defend Midgard-"

"Brother, this is madness," Loki insisted.

"We need a sorcerer, a _powerful _one," Thor mused thoughtfully, ignoring his brother, "Someone with great command of magic."

"Oh, gods, Odin will have me hanged upon our return. Beheaded. Quartered," Loki bemoaned. Thor gripped his shoulders tightly, shaking him once.

"They will congratulate you upon our return! They will sing songs to our triumph!" Thor promised, "I will go. I will speak to Father and have him hide away the Gauntlet. If he does not mount a defense for Midgard, as you say he will not, we will go to Álfheim, and find among them an Ælf with power to break your binds. Do not claim that we cannot go," -Loki snapped his mouth shut, glaring, cut off from his response- "I know you have your ways."

Almost petulantly, Loki replied.

"The branches of Yggdrasil are open to all, should you know where to find them," He conceded, "And how not to become lost in them."

"Excellent!" Thor said, releasing him, "I will return shortly. Wait for me."

There he left Loki, standing at the bottom of the winding stairs to his tower room. His mind whirled with all his old affections and annoyances with Thor, the cold hatred and anger banished as though it had never truly been his. His apathy, that protected him from both sides, was distant and his tiredness lifted into energy and he stood regally with his back straight and chin high. A broken laugh escaped his lips. Thor's mad heroics would once more drag him into trouble and he could not bring himself to hate his brother for it. Loki's mind swirled with thoughts and feelings. Relief, affection, fear, exasperation, love, anger, confusion.

He braced himself with an arm against the wall as he doubled over, laughing until tears ran down his face.

* * *

The treasure room opened before them, the doors creaking ominously. The patrolling guards walking the length of the vault turned sharply and bowed deeply to the king and his son.

"The Gauntlet," Odin demanded, striding into the room with Thor at his heels. The guards moved quickly to the niche that held the Infinity Gauntlet. Standing at either side of it. Thor looked around the room as they moved forward, his eyes settling upon the newest addition for just a little longer than the rest. The blue orb of Loki's staff glowed eerily in the dark corner it resided in, the concentrated power of the Tesseract palpable in the air.

He averted his eyes as the Infinity Gauntlet came into view around the corner. Gungnir's end hit the ground with a deep clang that reverberated through all of the palace.

"Norns have mercy," Odin breathed.

Thor looked on, ignorant for a moment what could possibly be amiss. Horror dawned. The Gauntlet sat, harmless upon its altar, gems glittering on the surface. Except on the index finger and thumb where dully colored stones did not even reflect an ounce of light. The glittering green and blue gems, meant to be in their places, were gone.

Thor felt dread pool in his stomach. It was as Loki said, Thanos was moving in the shadows. Taking only the two of the gems that would allow him to manipulate from hiding; Soul and Mind. The Gauntlet as a whole, as well as the rest of the gems, and the two fakes, were left behind to give the illusion that nothing was out of place. But the two that had been taken... Mind augmenting psionic powers and allowing him to access the thoughts and feelings of anyone, and Soul, that let him access the most perfect hiding place, and that let him manipulate the souls of even the-

Gods.

Loki.

It explained it all. Loki's sudden turn to anger and hate. Soul augmented the darkness in Loki's heart, enhanced it to action. Something had knocked it loose, though. Loki's apathy was a defense against all these overwhelming feelings that were forced upon him. It began when he was defeated upon Midgard. What had happened? Something had shaken Loki's mind, dislodged the influence of Soul just enough to let Loki begin to defend against it, and now, finally, fight it off.

Thor recalled, suddenly, Bruce Banner's sheepish recounting of how the Hulk had slammed Loki about like a rag doll, and left him, staring in shock at the ceiling from a small, Loki shaped crater in the floor. That would do it.

How long had his brother been suffering under Soul's influence? It could go back as far as when he took to the throne in Father's slumber and his own absence. What a perfect plan. To take control of the confused and depressed younger son of Odin, who had just taken the throne, to begin his revenge against the Nine Realms which banished him, stripped of power, to the endless void of space. First Jötunheim, a simple target from Loki's position and fears. Then he would move on, to all the rest, all in Asgard's name. In Loki's name.

Thor was broken from his realizations by Odin grabbing the Gauntlet and turning to the wall behind which hid the (new) Destroyer. The wall opened as Odin slammed Gungnir harshly into the ground. The Destroyer came into view and Odin held up the Gauntlet. The Destroyer reached out and took it before falling back into the bright light, the wall closing behind him.

"We must prepare," Odin said, turning back to face his son and the stricken guards, "Asgard must be warded and warned. Soul and Mind are a powerful combination, none are safe."

"What of Midgard?" Thor demanded, "Surely they will be targeted first."

Odin turned a sad gaze upon his son.

"Asgard must be priority," He said, "We cannot leave our people undefended. With Soul in his possession, we have no way of reaching Thanos' place of hiding. What if we were to fortify Midgard and he struck Asgard in our weakness? We must wait for him to make his move; defend our home."

Exactly as Loki said.

"Loki," Thor said, suddenly, "What of Loki? He brought us the knowledge of Thanos. Surely you must see that it was under the control of Mind and Soul that he has acted as he had. He can help."

"All the more reason that he must remain chained," Odin said solemnly, "Thanos is clever, and Loki is cleverer. We must be aware of every possibility."

"You think him still influenced?" Thor angrily exclaimed, "You would further contain him, wouldn't you? He has suffered, Father! Your son!"

"Enough," Odin said wearily, "My decision is made, do not fight me on this. You are a good son, and you will obey. When all this has passed, Loki will understand."

Thor clenched a fist tightly as Odin motioned for the guards to follow him as he swept from the room. Momentary shock flooded over him, but then he realized. Who would think that he, who had grown and changed, would defy the king? Who would think that his change would let him realize when his father was wrong? Because, surely, the king is never wrong. Why would they imagine that leaving him alone in the treasure room could be a foolish idea?

The door shut loudly, and Thor's eyes snapped Loki's staff. He quickly stepped across the room and grabbed hold of it, the power humming beneath his hands. With conviction, he strode from the room, gripping his brother's weapon tightly.

They'd need the extra firepower.

* * *

Sif glowered into the fire darkly. She was bored. She'd not a challenge since the ill-advised journey to Jötunheim, that ended in Thor's banishment and subsequent fighting on Midgard that was product of Loki's madness. The thought of the brothers brought a painful stab to her heart. She missed them. Both of them. She had no great fondness for the younger and his mischief, but never would she wish misfortune upon him. The depths of his anger and hatred had shocked her.

For some time, she had bemoaned the fault of it all. She was always mocking him, despite the usefulness of he and his tricks in battle. The Warriors Three were teasers, but she knew that they genuinely cared for the darker Prince, and showed their affections when he would allow it. But her own words always had a sharper edge to them. They were borne from a genuine dislike, that stemmed from a petty, childish action many centuries ago.

Her hair was, in fact, more beautiful than ever.

She tallied every little word said in anger or resentment toward Loki, and guilt mounted. But, she knew, she was not alone in the blame. All of Asgard whispered and mocked. Weak. Thin. Snake. Liar. Trickster. Oh, and she was not ignorant to Thor's faults, to his thoughtlessness and arrogance. They could, all of them, find blame in themselves. Perhaps, and she felt guilty for thinking ill of her king, most could be found in the All-Father. Sif had grown up with the two princes, and she was far from unobservant. She witnessed, every day, the favoritism for Thor. Odin's treatment of the princes is the seed of Asgard's treatment of them. Thor was the bright, beautiful, perfect son, and Loki was the shadow.

She knew, deeply, where his anger came from, but still she could not see in Loki the capacity for such actions that he had taken. It was sheer madness, and it left Sif confused. Loki was nothing if not in control. But, she had seen him since his return. His eyes were empty and his stance tired. There was something deeply wrong.

"Sif, must you look so serious all the time?" Fandral's voice broke her melancholy musings, and she glanced up to see he, Volstagg and Hogun taking relaxed positions around the room. Hogan's back remained straight and his gaze grim as he sat stiffly in a chair, though there was a miniscule softness that gave evidence to his calm. Volstagg immediately sat before an always filled table of food, digging in animatedly. Fandral sat, just a bit too close, next to Sif.

"I must be serious," Sif said defensively, "To balance your lacking of it."

"I can be plenty serious," Fandral said, straight faced. Sif rolled her eyes.

"When it involves taking a woman to your bed," Volstagg said laughingly as he stuffed his face.

"Oh, and you are no better!" Fandral shot back, "The only thing you take seriously is food."

"It's the most important meal of the day!" Volstagg insisted.

"_What_ meal?"

"Why, all of them, of course!"

Suddenly they were interrupted by the large double doors creaking open. Sif sucked in a sharp breath as she saw the form pushing them apart. The doors wide, there stood Loki. The younger prince looked better than he had in months. His hair was washed and neatly kept, though still long, with the ends curling slightly up as he had looked upon his return over three months past. He wore the same regal leather tunic and jacket of green and black, though his boots were plated with gold, and his shoulder guards and gloves gleamed the same. A small bit of gold streaked across his chest under the jacket and up into a short, stiff metal collar, a chest plate that Loki would usually forgo. He stood tall, in his familiar way, with pride and royalty.

Oh and his _face_. His eyes glittered dangerously with mirth, and his lips were stretched into a grin. There was no coldness to this smile, only _mischief_ and _promise_ and it was _so_ _Loki_ that it hurt and had Sif and the Warriors Three standing from their seats and looking to him with excited anticipation.

"I don't suppose you lot are up for an adventure, are you?"

* * *

They received whispers and stares as they passed, but all kept heir heads high, Loki most especially. The prince led Sif and the Warriors Three back through the halls toward his own room, where Thor had left him waiting and would no doubt return to find him. A loud clang reverberated through the halls and Loki knew that the time to move was coming quickly.

"Where are we going, then?" Fandral asked, gripping his sheathed sword in anticipation.

"Right now we are waiting for my brother," Loki said, "Then we travel to Álfheim, and then to Midgard."

"What has happened?" Sif asked, brow furrowed, "Why visit elves then go to Midgard?"

"We visit elves to get this infuriating thing off my arm," Loki said, gripping the armor at his right forearm, "Then Midgard to defend it from Thanos' wrath."

The Warriors Three gasped sharply, horror sickening their features.

"The Eternal One returns?" Hogun asked quietly.

"Yes," Loki replied solemnly, "And his first target will be Midgard, of that I have no doubt. Odin will safeguard our home, but Midgard has need of us."

"That's all well and horrible," Fandral cut in, "But are we ignoring the first half of what he just said?"

Loki stiffened defensively.

"My motives are sincere," He snapped.

"I believe you," Fandral assured quickly, "But, not many will. You seek to defy the will of the king. Need I remind you how that ended last time?"

Loki frowned darkly and looked away.

"You need not," Loki said quietly, "I will face my fate upon our return, or my capture. For now, other things take precedence."

"My friends!" Thor's booming voice sounded from the end of the hall, "What are you doing here?"

"What are your ridiculous heroics without Lady Sif and the Warriors Three?" Loki asked, an amused smile spreading across his face.

"If you're going to break the law, traverse the Realms, and fight the fiercest beasts, you will not being doing so without us," Sif declared.

"My friends," Thor said, face suddenly grave, "This is no simple quest. Thanos is powerful and terrible, and he has Mind and Soul."

"What?" Loki demanded sharply, "The gems are missing?"

"Yes, brother," Thor said, "I have just come from the Vault. Brother, I fear..."

"Soul," Loki breathed, bringing his hand to his forehead, he growled darkly, "How could I have allowed it to influence me so? Oh, gods, I should have realized the haze that had come over my eyes the very moment it happened!"

"Do not be angry with yourself, Loki," Thor said, placing her hand upon his shoulder gently, "Soul is a powerful thing, powerful enough to influence the best of us."

Loki laughed bitterly.

"We are running short on time," He said quietly, waving his hand, "Something to dwell upon later."

"Alright, brother," Thor said, sympathy in his eyes, then turned to Sif and the Warriors Three, "My friends, I would be glad for you to come, but do so only if you are prepared for what we face."

"We follow you," Sif said, and the Warriors declared their assent.

"Come, we must hurry. No doubt Heimdall knows I have stolen back your staff," Thor said.

Loki was shocked as he realized Thor's burden as it was held out to him. The long staff gleamed in the low light of the hall, and the azure glow of the Tesseract's power cast eerie light along it and across his brother's face. The thing hummed with power and called to him deeply. He reached out and grabbed hold of the staff and instantly felt the extra power coursing through him. He pulled it gently from Thor's grasp and turned the point to the ground, holding the staff along his arm steadily.

"Then we've no time to lose," He said, offering Thor a meaningful look before brushing by him, "Come then. The branch which touches Asgard is deep in the bowels of the palace. Heimdall will know our destination already, I am not sure what to expect from him."

Thor gripped Mjöllnir tightly in his hand, grim determination on his features. The halls grew darker and eerily silent as they pressed on through twists and turns all but Loki had never traversed before. They met no resistance and saw no guard, which put them all on edge. The corridors became more and more decrepit as they walked and the warriors began jumping at the shadows cast by the flickering wall sconces. Suddenly they came upon it, and Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three gazed up in awe.

Before them stood a resplendent golden door, etched with intricate designs that bore the image of a great tree. The massive door stood in sharp contrast with the old stone around it, and around its edges a bright white light shone. Loki turned to the rest, a sharp, serious look in his eyes. He held out his hand to Thor who looked at his in confusion.

"You must not, under any circumstances, look upon Yggdrasil," Loki fervently commanded, "The Ash Tree is poison to the mind, to look directly at it is to invite terrible madness into your being. Do you trust me?"

Sif and the Warriors Three glanced at each other before turning and nodding resolutely at Loki. Thor grasped Loki's hand tightly.

"There is no one in any Realm I trust more," Thor declared.

"I can guide us through," Loki said, "I know the way, and I can navigate through feeling alone. Shut your eyes and grab onto one another. Do not open them until we reach Álfheim. Close your mind to everything around you. Listen not to Yggdrasil's whispers. Trust me and I shall lead you well."

After a second's hesitation Sif took hold of Thor's other hand and reached for Fandral. The warriors followed suit until they formed a line. Loki looked upon them all as they shut their eyes tightly. Thor squeezed his hand gently and Loki felt a wave of joy and affection at their trust. Loki placed his hand, fist around the staff, upon the door and, closing his eyes, pushed with all his might.

Heimdall watched them, as he watches all, as they walked upon the branches of Yggdrasil.

* * *

As he led them, Loki thought. His eyes closed to the poisonous light of the Ash Tree, his mind wandered as his body moved through familiar paths. His poor fool of a brother held his hand tightly, trustingly and Loki felt bile in his throat. Thor liked to think things. He liked to think that he knew Loki, and perhaps Loki had not realized that his brother knew so much, but surely not as much as he thought. His brother is naive and so painfully, _painfully _stubborn. He has a thought, and defends it to the last. He will believe nothing that he did not _wish _to believe. It was why it was so easy to lie to him.

Loki knows his mind. Thanos may have Soul, but he never had Loki.

What was one more lie?

* * *

A/N: Reviews are awesome.


	3. Chapter 2

**Important Notice: To those of you who read this story first, I would like to point out that I added something to Chapter 1. It was something I was kind of dangling on the edge about; whether or not to go that route. I made a firm decision, however, realizing that it was all just a little _too easy_, wasn't it? A little while after I published that chapter I decided to address it right there at the end, rather than wait and point it out later on. I urge anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about to go back and read the added in bit at the end of Chapter 1. I hope you like where I'm going with this.**

A/N: Look! What's that? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It's PLOT! A little less character and a little more action here. I want to just say that I don't particularly like OCs. This is not meant to be a character, rather a representation of elves in their oldest sense. Elves are vicious, tricky, clever, natural, and sensual. I knew I was taking them to Álfheim, and I knew that meant I would have to have an original character; since the King of Elves is a warrior, and not mentioned as particularly adept at magic. There are poems and stories of elves that trick people to madness and steal children. They are not nice. Elves use magic wickedly, and enjoy power, and I get the feeling that Loki might have spent some time studying with them. This character is just supposed to be an Elf. That's it.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers.**

* * *

Chapter 2

The great forests met his vision and the silence of Álfheim replaced the whispers of Yggdrasil. The gleaming branch behind them was left free in the Realm of Álfheim, all the elves knew to stay away, and the forests grew thicker around it. Loki pulled on his brother's hand leading them away from the dangerous thing.

"So long as you do not look back, you may open your eyes," He said, dropping Thor's hand, "Come, we must find an elf with power enough to help; Norns know any of them have penchant enough for trouble to want to. We would be wise to avoid the gaze of Freyr, though, he may alert Odin to our presence; we must keep to shadows."

Heimdall had not stopped them. Loki furrowed a brow with thought. He could not think of a reason why Heimdall would keep their departure from the All-Father, especially after what Loki had done to him. He held no love for the youngest prince of Asgard.

"Keep wary, friends," Thor warned, breaking his train of thought, "Álfheim is a tricky place, and its denizens are no strangers to mischief."

"Well, we've the Lord of Mischief leading us," Fandral said with a laugh, "What have we to fear?"

"I know of one Ælf who I believe can break Odin's binding," Loki said, "But though Ælfæd is known for her power, she is known to be trickier than most. She will be difficult to find, as I cannot scry for her, but..."

"What?" Sif asked.

"She is wont to find _us_ before we find _her_."

"Well, that sounds very... ominous," Volstagg said, "Are you sure elves are the best idea for this?"

"Not at all, my friend," Loki said, a smile tugging at his lips, "They are simply the _only_ option. Dwarves don't like me overmuch and among any of the other Realms you are as likely to cross paths with a sorcerer as you are on Midgard. Be wary, the elves are as wont to steal your minds as Yggdrasil."

"How reassuring," Fandral said with a nervous smile.

"It was not meant to reassure," Loki said shortly.

"We know."

For what seemed like hours they followed the younger prince, twisting and turning around large tree trunks until all of them must surely be lost. Still, Loki led with determination, seeming to know exactly where it was he was going. Fandral shivered and wrapped his cloak tighter around his shoulders, the shadows cast by the trees leaving them in cold darkness. Fog shifted around their feet as they moved. Leaves rustled and Fandral's gaze snapped to his left, scanning the darkness.

"Did you hear that?" He whispered.

The troupe stopped and turned back toward him, eyes glancing about as they stood examining the silence.

"I heard nothing," Thor said, brow furrowed.

"Nor did I," Said Sif. Loki, Volstagg and Hogun all shook their heads. Fandral took another sweep of the surrounding trees, before his eyes settled upon their leader. The light of the staff cast an ominous glow over his features, but there was a natural glint to his eyes that left Fandral uneasy. He was hiding something. Again he glanced around nervously as his companions continued on. He took quick steps to catch up, eyes darting this way and that.

Another rustling of leaves and he drew his sword swiftly causing the brothers, Sif, and the rest of the Warriors Three to turn sharply, hands on their own weapons.

"There's something out there!" Fandral hissed, wide-eyed and frantic. His companions relaxed their grips, looking at him in concern. Didn't they hear it?

"Fandral," Loki said, moving toward him slowly, "Calm yourself. It is only a trick."

There was another rustling of leaves followed by a deep growl. Fandral jumped and turned toward it, taking a defensive stance.

"Fandral!"

He turned swiftly, lashing out with his blade. It connected sharply with Loki's golden staff. Loki twirled it deftly, catching Fandral's sword in the blades of the staff and disarming the warrior. Fandral jumped back in shock as his weapon flew from his grasp. Sharply, things came into focus and there was naught but silence in the forest. Fandral stared at Loki with dawning horror.

"Loki, I-"

"Silence!" Loki commanded, and Fandral snapped his mouth shut. Loki's gleaming emerald eyes drew slowly across the line of trees that surrounded them, "Show yourself, creature."

A low, feminine chuckle echoed through the forest and in seconds weapons were drawn.

"And here I thought you brought me presents, Liesmith," A voice whispered to them, "Not of the mood for games, then, little prince?"

A grin spread across Loki's face. Ah, his old friend. He knew Ælfæd well, and knew that she would not resist the lure of Æsir lost in her forest. The Ælf was clever and tricky, as all elves ought to be, but there was power lingering under her skin. But, though she was clever, Loki was always cleverer.

"I'm always of the mood for games, Ælfæd," Loki said smoothly, "You know that."

"Well, I'm not!" Fandral exclaimed, pulling his rapier from the ground, "I could have killed you!"

"Poor, scared, lost little lamb," Ælfæd crooned, "Led to the forest and left to die."

"You'll not twist our minds, Ælf," Thor said, raising Mjöllnir threateningly.

"Oh, then where is your shepherd?" Ælfæd hissed, laughing with malicious glee.

Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three glanced around themselves. Loki was gone.

"Brother!" Thor cried, angrily. He spun about, searching for the source of the voice, "Where is my brother, foul thing?"

The dark laugh echoed ominously.

"Led to the forest and left to die."

Silence surrounded them suddenly, and Thor growled angrily. He gripped his weapon tightly, swinging it violently into the thick base of a tree. Branches shook violently and the trunk cracked.

"Thor!" Sif called, "We must keep calm. Freyr has eyes everywhere, do not call attention to us."

"But; my brother!" Thor cried, "We must find him!"

"We will separate and search," Hogun offered, hefting his mace.

"No!" Sif said sharply, "No, it is what she wants. We must remain together. She deprived us of Loki because she knows she cannot outsmart him. She wants to play."

"Where did she take him?" Thor asked desperately.

"He knows what he's doing," Fandral said suddenly, "Loki will be fine. This is his arena, my friend. He will not be caught unawares. I've always thought he had to be half Ælf for all his mischief."

If that damned light in Loki's eyes was anything to go by, he knew _exactly _what he was doing. He knew _who_ he was dealing with. And, perhaps most importantly, Loki knew who he was leaving in the dark as played his games. Business as usual, then, Fandral thought with a wry smile.

"So what do we do?" Volstagg asked.

Sif glared out into the forest, eyes scanning every shadow.

"We play."

* * *

"They have heart," Ælfæd said, looking to her guest lazily, "And more intelligence than I'd hope to see in Æsir."

"Would you expect any less from friends of mine?" Loki replied evenly, tone belying nothing of his anxiousness.

"_Led to the forest and left to die."_

Loki frowned guiltily. It was best to deal with this Ælf personally. His friends and his brother would be fine in his absence.

Ælfæd grinned at him.

"Certainly not," She purred, drawing close. Loki remained still as she lifted a hand to his face, drawing a finger down his cheek, "You are more clever than any other of Asgard, Loki Odinson. You would not take fools on a fool's errand."

The beautiful creature before him straightened, bright white eyes gleaming, hand trailing along his shoulder as she passed. Her rich dark hair trailed behind her, poised over her long pointed ears. Her gentle curves were covered only by the barest scraps of cloth, leaving her marble white skin exposed. Her feet were bare and she moved silently across the room, to an open window of the high set structure. Below them, other buildings set in the trees glowed with light.

Ælfæd was, as all elves, a natural and sensual creature. She was beautiful and majestic, and certainly magical. All elves held great potential for magic, but few knew it so well as she. Sorcery was an art that she strove to perfect, poor souls lost in the forest were the victims of her practice.

"The meadow elves," Ælfæd said suddenly, "They know not what they are missing. The beauty of the forest and the comfort of shadows so far away..."

"What a terrible fate," Loki said coldly.

Ælfæd smiled at him.

"Worry not for your friends," She said, "It is only a game."

"A game for their minds," Loki snapped.

"For yours," Ælfæd said with a grin, moving back to the center of the room, hand ghosting over the glimmering orb standing there, "If they lose, you will be alone. The Chitauri will swoop in like vultures and 'You will beg for something as sweet as pain'."

Images moved across the orb in the center of the room, the edges smokey. Loki's eyes were drawn to it as a familiar scene played out, soundless. He saw himself flinch away from The Other and a sharp pain tore through his head. Loki's eyes narrowed upon Ælfæd.

"You see far," He commented dryly.

"So long as you are bound, Liesmith," Ælfæd crooned, reaching out a hand and dragging her nails down the plate on his forearm, "I am the most powerful sorcerer in the Nine Realms. But, sorcery is in my blood. You..."

Ælfæd smiled, hand trailing up his arm as she pressed her body flush against his. He stood still, giving no indication to any reaction.

"You are something else entirely," She whispered sweetly into his ear, "You, the cast off child of a Jötunn, one of the clumsiest and most brutish races, and raised in gleaming Asgard, among warriors and rulers, have _mastered_ the art like no other. It would be a shame" - She tugged at a strap that held his right arm guard in place and it loosened at the top, falling open slightly - "for you to be cut from it so wickedly."

She pulled at the strap nearer to his wrist and the plating fell to the floor with the dull clang of metal on wood. She pushed up the sleeve of his leather coat and rested her cold fingers, lukewarm to his chill skin (My, did that make sense, now), upon the runes carved into his arm. Loki followed her hand with his eyes as she traced each one. His muscles tensed and he drew in a sharp breath as the green glow of the runes was pulled away at her touch. She whispered slithery words under her breath, smooth and delicate in her elfish voice.

Suddenly, as Ælfæd pulled her hand away, Loki felt the flood of power. Relief crashed over him as the familiar swell of magic rose within him at his call. He breathed deeply, clenching his fist tightly and savoring the feel of power coursing beneath his skin. Ælfæd laughed sweetly, reaching up to caress his face, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth. Loki's hand flew up to grip her upper arm tightly. Ælfæd laughed and licked her lips, inches from his own. Loki's mouth twisted into a grin.

"And if they win?" He asked, reaching his free hand to her face, dragging his hand down her face and gripping her chin, a rough mockery of her own gentle caress.

"If they win," Ælfæd breathed, grinning wickedly, "If they win, I will make your scepter even more powerful than it already is. No one will dare question your greatness."

"How was it?" Loki asked, eyes dancing with mirth, "To be the most powerful sorcerer in the Nine Realms?"

"Glorious," She rasped, "But even more glorious to see you restored to it."

Loki hummed with delight, ever wanting for praise.

"So, should my brother, Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg survive to the end of your games with their minds intact," He said, summoning the staff to his hand from the other end of the room, gripping the cold metal in his now bare hand, "You will augment my staff, and let us depart without incident?"

"If you still wish to leave," Ælfæd said with a laugh, threading her fingers through his hair, "Then yes. This is my bargain. So I swear."

"Well, then," Loki said, eyes flashing dangerously, "Let the games begin."

Ælfæd stumbled back as he vanished from her arms. A wicked, maniac's grin split her lips. It is no fun to dance alone, after all.

* * *

The trees came alive. Sif yelled a warning as the roots broke from the ground and weapons were raised. A root shot out into their center, scattering the warriors. Sif swung her spear in an arc, slicing down on the root, and she swore she heard the thing hiss in pain. She swept her spear back in time to catch a branch headed toward her, cutting it cleanly so it fell at her feet. She heard a yell of fury and turned sharply to see Fandral hacking at a branch that held his foot. Volstagg turned to him and, with a great heave, cleft the branch with his ax. The two turned and stood back to back as Sif's arm was caught by vines. She lifted the arm that bore her shield and brought it down upon the vines, sharp edge of the shield cutting through them like paper.

Something was wrong, Sif realized. This was an attack, not tricks or mind games. Sif glanced around the small clearing, broken roots and branches fallen everywhere. She counted three heads.

"Hogun!" She called to the forest. She cursed under her breath and fought to Thor's side, "She's trying to separate us, again! Whatever her game, I don't think it works with us together."

Thor glanced around, worry creasing his brow. He looked back at Sif, fierce determination shining in his eyes.

"You are, all of you, fierce warriors," Thor said, knocking away a branch with his hammer, "And you've mind enough to even please my brother. We must play her game if he is to be returned to us. We will separate."

Sif grit her teeth in frustration. He was right and she knew it.

"Volstagg!" She called, "Fandral! We must split up! We will see you when this is done, I swear it!"

The two warriors looked at Thor and Sif with worry, before nodding resolutely and each taking off in another direction through the forest. Sif held out her arm and Thor clasped it in his briefly. He turned and ran into the the trees, leaving Sif alone there. With a cry of fury she tore apart more attacking limbs until there was only her heavy breaths left to penetrate the silence. Her eyes scanned the shadows and she gripped her spear tightly.

"Well then, Ælf," She said, "Here I am. Have at me."

Sif stepped back as the shadows shifted and suddenly sprung out upon her. They obscured her vision until she saw nothing but blackness and she felt her throat close. She gasped for air, clutching her neck and dropping her spear. She flailed about wildly with her shield, fear consuming her. Terror and anger shook her to the core and desperation seeped into her bones. She was going to die.

Loki had led them to this cursed place and left them to the mercy of the elves. _Traitor._ The bastard prince had turned tail and run. _Weak. Pathetic. Coward._ Like he always would. Sif felt tears spring to her eyes. She had trusted him, given him another chance and... she fell to the ground, vacant eyes staring into the nothingness around her. She felt the walls moving in around her and she whimpered in pain and horror. There was nothing _there_. Nothing for her to fight. She was a _warrior_. There was a bitter taste in her mouth.

_Loki Odinson, I will end you for this treachery._

"Sif."

Oh, he would come to torment her himself. His rich voice cut through the darkness like a knife; the knife that will cut her and spill her blood onto the grass. She felt something slithering around her wrists. _Snake_. He laughed.

"Bested so easily, coward?"

Sif hissed at the insult, forcing herself to her knees. All around her she heard hissing and the terror seeped her bones.

"Not even past her first little trial. How sad."

Sif laughed and the shadows around her shifted. She could almost feel Loki's grin. Her calm resolve and anger replaced her fear and her mind cleared. She sucked in a breath and found her throat no longer tight. Around her the shadows continued to move and she lifted her spear.

"Come and face me, coward!" She yelled.

Loki's laugh echoed through the forest.

"Well done," He said, "I'm sure you can take it from here."

Silence reigned and Sif felt like a fool. A warrior bested by a game of fear. She gripped her weapon tightly, a snarl ripping past her lips. She'll show _him_ coward.

* * *

Loki stood from his place kneeling by Sif's crumpled form, confident that with his taunting she would press on for sheer defiance of him. He gazed upon her softly; she had never liked him, he shouldn't have been surprised by her thoughts. It hurt more than he might have thought it would. He reminded himself firmly that her mistrust was well-placed; he was, in fact, deceiving them. To no ill ends, but it is deception nonetheless.

Loki looked out through the forest, reaching out with his senses. Ælfæd was powerful, but magics of the mind are tricky. She could not hope to target them all at once. Separation was her solution. However, there was also little point to it. His friends could possibly break through to each other without magic, but there is only so much that can be done. No, there was another reason for this.

Summoning his magic Loki shifted his being through the twists and turns of the forest until he came upon his brother. Before he could even notice that Thor was still standing tall, Mjöllnir collided heavily with his chest. Loki heard a sharp crack and pain bloomed. His back hit a tree with great force and he couldn't hold back the short cry of agony.

Loki looked up at his brother, who stood with vacant eyes and hammer raised. His form was slightly slumped, and would not hold steady a stance. So, Ælfæd decided to dance with him. It was a bit too easy goading Sif into fighting back, he should have known the Ælf would plan something a little more personal. Loki lifted a hand to his chest, gingerly prodding with his magic. He hissed as he found two broken ribs and another fractured. Before he could put the effort into healing them, Thor charged forward.

Resolving to ignore his injury in favor of breaking into Thor's illusion, he turned the gathering healing magics into psionic, channeling it through his staff for a boost of power as he dove to avoid Thor's clumsy blow. Loki swung his staff in an arc, the blunt end striking Thor in the head. While he was dazed, Loki turned the staff around, putting the tip to his chest, pushing him upright as the energy moved into his body. Loki shut his eyes as he was pulled in.

He felt the lurch as his consciousness flooded Thor's but held on steadfastly. When next he opened his eyes, it was to the busy streets of Manhattan. The sounds of cars and people assaulted his ears and he winced at the intensity of it. He glanced around, looking for a familiar face among the crowd. He saw nothing but cars and smiling mortals. The sight unnerved him and he looked up at the tall buildings surrounding him. He turned as he looked around until his eyes settled upon what had been at his back.

Stark Tower.

It was as tall and pristine as it had been since before he set the Chitauri on Midgard; a monument to modern technology and Tony Stark's ego. Loki furrowed his brow, wondering what it was Ælfæd was playing at with this illusion. Loki closed his eyes, picturing the part of the building he was familiar with; the top floor where Stark had threatened him and offered him a drink, and where Banner had...

Ahem, yes.

Loki opened his eyes and found himself standing in the familiar room, though much cleaner than he'd left it. He heard a laugh and he turned to the direction from which it came. There, laid out across the furniture, were the Avengers, with the notable additions of Jane Foster, Sif, and the Warriors Three. They did not acknowledge his presence, letting Loki know that the illusion tailored to Thor was not meant for his being here. In the midst of the Avengers was his brother, laughing uproariously, with an arm around Foster.

"Brother," Loki said. Thor furrowed a brow and looked around, but his eyes passed him without a flicker of recognition. Loki scowled, but his eyes were caught by the illusion of Stark. Sitting alone in a chair with a drink in his hand he looked, out of the corner of his eyes, directly at Loki. Loki narrowed his eyes upon Not-Stark and the corner of the illusion's mouth tilted up in a smirk as he raised his glass slightly to him. Not quite an illusion, Loki realized. Stark stood, setting the glass down on the table and strode purposefully toward the elevator. Loki's eyes lingered on his brother before he followed after. His view was cut off around the corner and he turned to face the face of Anthony Stark. Stark spread his arms wide, grinning.

"It's this that you prefer," Ælfæd said in Stark's voice, "Is it not? You and your charming fondness of mortal men."

Stark's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Intelligent," Ælfæd said, stepping close, voice dropping to a husky purr, "Charming. Good looking. Courageous."

"His tendency to be obnoxious puts me off," Loki said coldly.

"_Arrogant._ Please," Ælfæd said with a laugh, "You live for his type."

"What is this?" Loki demanded, ignoring her prodding, gesturing to their surroundings.

"Perfection," Ælfæd whispered, trailing a hand up Loki's arm then gripping it, "It is a world without war. Thanos is defeated and the Realms are at peace. He has his friends. He has his woman. He has everything he could ever want. He even has you."

A ring came from the elevator and it opened. Loki watched as the image of himself exited the elevator and walked past, turning the corner without acknowledging them, a smile on his face.

"How clever," Loki said, glaring at Ælfæd through narrowed eyes. Stark laughed throatily.

"You could stay here, too," Ælfæd breathed in his ear.

Loki put a hand on his chest, momentarily impressed with the detail Ælfæd put in as he made contact with the arc reactor, and gave a harsh push. Stark stumbled back against the wall. Ælfæd look up in surprise as smugness overtook Loki's features.

"Oh, I don't think we'll be here long," He said with a grin, "You underestimate my brother."

"No!" The booming shout of the thunderer shook the floor, and Loki stepped forward, shoving Not-Stark not-so-gently into the wall. The illusions around them began to flicker and fall.

"You see," Loki hissed, "My brother is a king."

"This is wrong," Thor's voice boomed.

"Are you so bloodthirsty that you will only be satisfied with war and death?" Steve Rogers' voice spoke through the fading illusion.

"A wise king," Loki continued, "And a wise king never seeks out war, but he is always prepared for it."

Ælfæd listened with growing interest, a grin beginning to stretch across Stark's face.

"The worlds are not so faultless as this," Thor said, "This is wrong."

"Because he knows that there will always be something," Loki said, "The Realms are imperfect. They thrive on disorder. And you..."

Loki leaned in close, lips brushing his as he spoke.

"You are not so clever as you think."

The illusion shattered around them.

* * *

Loki gasped and shot upright, hand flying to his heart as he woke. He looked around, quickly finding his brother's body close by. He moved to crawl toward him but hissed as the pain in his chest made itself known. Cursing under his breath, he recalled his injury, summoning magic to his hands as he collapsed against the soft earth. He pushed the energy into the mangled bones forcing them back into place and knitting the breaks together with a grimace. He sighed with relief as he let his hand fall to the ground. He looked over at Thor, seeing his chest rising and falling with breath.

Loki breathed a laugh as he shut his eyes. A dull ache in his chest was all that remained of his pain. Suddenly he fell silent as a chill ran up his spine. Something familiar pulled at the edge of his senses and he sat up sharply, eyes darting across the tree line. A bright flash of light came from his right and he rolled swiftly, avoiding the charge of energy. He stood, gripping his staff tightly as Chitauri swooped in. He grimaced darkly. His unfortunate allies.

They were upon him in an instant and he summoned fire to his fingertips, burning the creatures to ash as they poured out from the trees. They screeched and pressed the attack. Loki swept his staff and fired energy from the Tesseract fueled focus. His head snapped to the side and he felt the sting of a burn. His bright eyes turned upon the offending Chitauri, sending him viciously to Helheim in a blaze of screams.

"That is enough," A powerful, commanding voice said.

A bright light accompanied the voice, and the Chitauri screeched in pain as their bodies crumpled. Suddenly he felt his form torn from the plane and a bright light blinded him. Loki shut his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath as he was thrust through the forest. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the ceiling of Ælfæd's home.

Loki sat up straight and looked around, seeing Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three all lying about on the floor, beginning to stir. He looked up to see Ælfæd with a scowl on her face, a hand gripping her arm, holding her up uncomfortably. Loki felt dread build as he followed the arm to which the hand was attached to the person who owned it. He averted his eyes to the floor. He heard Ælfæd laugh darkly at him.

"Freyr," He said smoothly, "Brother of Freyja, and King of Álfheim. It is an honor to be in your presence."

"Look upon me without fear, Son of Odin," Freyr commanded, "For it is _my_ honor to have words with a Prince of Asgard."

Surprise flitted across his face as Loki obeyed, looking up at the fair Freyr. The Vanir stood tall and proud, bright golden eyes shinning in the darkness, and armor resplendent. Loki heard a groan to his right as Thor roused, sitting up and rubbing his head.

"Oh, my _head_," He heard Fandral whine from his other side as he stood. He breathed a sigh of relief to know that they were well, and let himself focus on the Vanir that stood in front of them.

"You are arrogant and foolish to turn your games upon these ones, Ælfæd" Freyr said, tugging roughly on Ælfæd's arm, "Tell me, young prince; what brings you to this Realm with the Chitauri at your back?"

"Lord Freyr," Loki heard Thor say, "We come on behalf of our Father-"

Oh, gods, if they were going to lie, Thor should have at least kept his mouth shut and let Loki alone speak.

"Mendacity does not become you, brother," Loki said with a smile, then his gaze turned serious upon the King of Elves, "We come against the command of the All-Father. Wise and good Freyr, we ask that you hear us out in our task. There is a great threat to all Realms growing."

"I will hear you, prince," Freyr said, eyes narrowing, "Be quick in your explanation; it is not wise to defy the King of Asgard without good reason."

"I humbly thank you," Loki said with a deep bow, "The Eternal One seeks his vengeance. No doubt you will receive word of this from Odin, soon enough."

Shock crossed Freyr's face and he loosened his grip on Ælfæd, who tore her arm away with a growl.

"We came for the assistance of a sorcerer, as you may know, which has been given," Loki gave a mocking dip of his head toward Ælfæd, a small grin playing at his lips, "Thanos will attack Midgard first, but Odin insists upon fortifying Asgard and waiting. The Chitauri are his army, and they hunt us, as surely you know, _Ælfæd_ . He holds Mind and Soul; Midgard must be warned and prepared. They will burn without help."

Ælfæd grinned at him as he accused her of the true purpose for separating the warriors. Feeding them to the wolves.

"Soul."

All eyes turned to Ælfæd in surprise as she spoke.

"He has Soul," She repeated, rubbing her arm. Her eyes fell upon Loki's staff, "You have Mind."

They all turned to him and he looked down at the scepter in shock. Ælfæd stepped forward, hand shooting out toward the glowing concentration of power. With a hiss she plunged her fingers in and quickly retrieved them. Between her burnt fingers was a glimmering blue gem. Instantly Loki felt his connection to the psionic aspect of his powers diminish. He knew that were he to attempt such an invasion of the mind as he just had with Thor, he would end up lost.

Freyr quickly snatched the gem from her hand, holding it up the the light. The companions all looked on in shock.

"We had it all along," Thor said, "Right under our noses. Hidden by the overwhelming power of the Tesseract."

"By the Nine," Freyr said reverently watching in rapture as the gem reflected and refracted light. Suddenly he shook his head and held out the gem to Loki, "Here, take it. Go- No, wait."

He turned to Ælfæd sharply, as soon as the gem was passed to Loki's possession, the god feeling the return of the immense psionic energy it gave.

"I believe you owe something to Prince Loki," He said.

"My game was not finished!" Ælfæd declared, "I owe the Liesmith nothing!"

"Your game is ended, regardless of the coming to its end," Freyr said, "And you swore. You will augment his scepter and allow them to leave without further mischief. You would not wish to disobey me in this."

Ælfæd scowled, though there was a hint of fear in her eyes, and held out her hand to Loki. He placed the scepter in her hand, eyes on Mind only. How interesting. The Mind Gem had mixed with the Tesseract's power, which allowed him to take control of those humans on Midgard. He had thought it was only the influence of the Tesseract alone.

"We elves know most of the making of channels," Ælfæd said as she lifted the scepter slightly, eying it speculatively, "Staffs. Lexicons. Wands. All hold similar properties. The Tesseract is borrowed power, it will never fully obey you. For a channel to be most effective it must be made as part of the wielder. It must be built upon the wielder's own power."

She pointed the staff at Loki, the tip resting inches from his chest.

"Your blood, Loki Odinson," She said, "Let it flow upon the focus, let your power flow with it."

Loki looked to Freyr, who nodded in assent. Quickly he swept his hand along the curved blade of the scepter, slicing his palm clean open. He moved his hand over top of the concentration of power, its blue glow flickering slightly. He clenched his hand into a fist and summoned a swell of magic, giving it no specific form, and the blood dripped down upon the focus. It hissed in protest and a spark flew from it as the blood mingled, turning the focus light purple where it trailed. Loki drew back as suddenly the focus turned violent and the gold around it began to crack. The focus lightened to a blinding white and everyone shielded their eyes.

The staff clattered to the floor as Ælfæd herself turned away. The light faded and Loki turned around slowly, tentatively. The scepter lay harmlessly upon he floor, the focus glowing acid green, spilling into the cracks in the gold surrounding it.

"So powerful," Ælfæd whispered reverently.

Loki knelt down and curled a hand around the staff. Instantly, he felt the connection. The channel tugged at his magic, and he was momentarily stunned still by the power humming beneath his hands. He stood, pulling the staff up with him, touching the end to the floor, bringing the green glow of the focus to his eye level.

Freyr placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"It is time that the Sons of Odin take upon their duty as guardians of the Nine Realms," He said, "I will send word everywhere I can, warning them of Thanos' coming. I wish you good fortune, Prince Loki and Prince Thor of Asgard."

Loki nodded resolutely and met Thor's gaze, who proudly beamed back at him. Freyr vanished in a great flash of blinding light, that left them all blinking at where he once stood. Ælfæd straightened, cradling her injured hand, eyes trained furiously upon Loki, a grin tugging at her lips. He watched her warily for a moment before his attention was drawn away.

"You were attacked?" Sif whispered as she came close, "By Chitauri?"

"I am fine," He assured her, "Now come close. I've strength enough to bring us all to Midgard."

"Magic," Volstagg sniffed, "I always hated your teleporting."

Loki held back a scowl as he concentrated on drawing up his magic, envisioning his path. Just before he pulled them from the plane, Ælfæd's voice hissed after them:

"Beware the Silver Tongue of the Liesmith. Words drip like venom from his lips, and truths rarely pass them."

Loki felt his body go cold as he shut his eyes and tore their bodies from Álfheim's embrace.

* * *

Tony Stark had been sharing living space with all of the Avengers sans Thor for nearly two months now. It would be safe to assume that there is little in the world that could surprise him at this point. So, as he poured himself a glass of scotch, it was a strange thing that he absently kept pouring as the glass overflowed and he stared, open-mouthed, at the armored figures that appeared in his penthouse at Stark Tower.

"Mr. Stark, you have visitors."

"Duly noted, JARVIS."

* * *

A/N: Still with me? Good. I hope you didn't mind this chapter all that much. I wanted the chapter to encompass all of Álfheim, without losing momentum, so it's a bit longer, and left less time for examining our characters. I hope you enjoyed reading. Review!


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: It's, uh, 2:30 in the morning and this chapter is, uh... long.

Really fucking long.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk.**

* * *

Conviction

Chapter 3

* * *

Scotch dripped from the bottle, the glass below filled to the brim, with the bronze liquid staining the outside and pooling around it, falling off the edge of the counter onto the floor. Tony stared at the new arrivals with shock. They had appeared in a short flash of green light, Thor standing in front, ever imposing and regal. He was flanked on the left by a blonde man who stood tall, hair perfectly coiffed and goatee precisely trimmed, and a red haired and red bearded giant who was gripping an axe tightly in front of his generous weight. To his right stood a _beautiful_ creature with gray eyes, pitch black hair, full lips, full bosom, and a fierce look about her, with a shield and spear, and a grim looking man with black hair, hefting a spiked mace in his hands. Against the backdrop of Manhattan at night, they were rather out of place.

"Anthony Stark!" Thor boomed with a grin, stepping forward, "It is good to see you well!"

"Uh huh," Tony said, lifting the glass, dripping with alcohol, and taking a significant gulp. He held back a wince as it burned its way down his throat and met Thor's happy gaze, "Good to see you, too, buddy. Who're your friends?"

"My friend," Thor said, turning slightly toward the troupe that looked like they came from the Renaissance Fair, "Allow me to introduce you to the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun."

Each of them nodded respectively with smiles, save the grim looking one.

Tony took another generous sip of scotch.

"Right," He said, taking a deep breath, "Please tell me you're not here because your brother's having another temper tantrum. I'm not sure Manhattan can handle that so soon after the last one."

"I take offense to that, Mr. Stark," A voice purred from his side.

Tony stiffened in recognition of it, standing still as a hand reached out and swept a finger across the spilled drink.

"Now," Loki said, "That is just a waste of good scotch."

"Uh... Thor?" Tony asked, glancing at his wrists, ensuring that the tracer bracelets were in place.

"It is..." Thor paused, a strange look coming to his eyes, "A long story. Yes, Midgard is in danger; no, my brother is not the cause of it. He is here to assist."

"Worry not, Mr. Stark," Loki said, laugh evident in his voice, "You've nothing to fear from me."

Tony finally mustered the resolve to turn and face the god who'd thrown him out the window just several feet away. He didn't know why he was so surprised when he actually saw Loki standing there, looking down at him with what was nothing short of amusement. His eyes seemed sharper, clearer than they'd been when he'd last seen him, gleaming light green with something distinctly predatory. Yet, there was also a tiredness about him, as he seemed to be leaning heavily upon his staff – wasn't that supposed to be _blue?_ - and his eyes, though clear, were half lidded, and his posture, though regal and commanding, held a slightly forced look to it. There was also the matter of the ragged burn on his cheek.

"Rough day?" Tony settled upon asking.

"You," Loki drawled slowly, and Tony noticed belatedly that his hand was empty and the glass now rested in Loki's, "Have absolutely _no_ idea."

Loki downed the last of the scotch without so much as a twitch, then frowned down at that which was spilled over the counter. With a wave of his hand it lifted itself into the air and poured into the glass, which Loki immediately drank down.

"I don't know how you can stand those mortal concoctions, Loki," Thor said, shaking his head, "Give me a fine ale any day."

"That is because you have no taste, brother," Loki responded with a half grin, setting the glass down upon the now clean counter.

_Brother._

Tony felt like he was missing something important here.

"Mr. Stark, shall I inform SHIELD?"

"Do so, and I will be gone before they even arrive," Loki said casually.

"No, thank you, JARVIS," Tony said, drumming his fingers against the counter, still looking at Loki, "I got this."

"I am sure you do, sir," JARVIS replied dryly.

"Don't get cute," Tony shot back.

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir," JARVIS said, "Shall I wake the others, at least?"

Tony raised an eyebrow at Loki, who merely shrugged.

"Go for it," Tony said, "Don't tell them exactly what's going on, just... to get up here and not freak out when they do."

"Certainly, sir," The computer's voice dripped with disapproval.

Loki seemed to find the exchange amusing and laughed lightly as he poured (when did he get that bottle?) himself another glass of scotch. Three glasses in as many minutes? Overfilled glasses, at that. For someone who looked like a lightweight, he sure was downing that stuff. Tony shook his head of the ridiculous thoughts, and, without thinking, snatched the glass back from Loki, who scowled darkly in response.

"Explanation," Tony demanded, since he had apparently taken leave of his senses, "Now."

"Of course, friend," Thor said in a placating tone, walking forward as Sif and the Warriors Three began looking around in fascination, "I thank you for your patience to this point; after all that my brother has done - most earnestly Son of Coul-"

"Who?" Loki asked, brow furrowing.

"The agent," Thor said, looking down to the floor sadly, "You-"

"Stabbed him in the chest," Loki finished for him, remembering, "How is he? I'm sure he has recovered by now."

Thor stared at his brother dumbfounded. Loki raised his glass (how the hell did he get that back?) in a mock toast, then took a delicate sip. Tony slumped against the counter, his head hitting the marble with a dull thud.

"Explanation," Tony repeated desperately, voice slightly muffled, "_Please._"

There was a ring from the elevator.

"Tony, I swear if you're naked..."

Clint Barton walked in first, hands covering his eyes as he spoke, followed closely by Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner, and finally Steve Rogers taking up the rear. Many things happened at once. Natasha drew a gun and pointed it at Loki with one hand and pulled Clint's hand way from his face with the other. Steve quickly moved in front of everyone, standing tall and raising his fists. Bruce Banner merely stepped forward threateningly, eyes flashing green. Tony raised his head from the counter.

"I told you to tell them not to freak out."

"I did, sir. They seemed to take that to mean that you were unclothed or in some disgraceful way. A reasonable conclusion, given your-"

"Mute."

"Please, my friends," Thor implored, garnering the attention of the tensed Avengers, "Things are not as they seem. All will be explained."

"Thanos," Loki said, sipping at his drink, eying the Avengers with a bored expression, "Let us begin with that. He is called the Eternal One, and many thousands of years ago he ruled all the Nine Realms. He was overthrown and exiled, the source of his power taken from him. He has returned and seeks vengeance, and he will begin with Midgard. He enjoys a challenge, and you have foiled him once."

"Gee, thanks for the info," Clint said, his own gun pointed at Loki, now, as well, "But _what the hell are __**you**__ doing here?_"

"Thanos draws his power from something called the Infinity Gauntlet," Thor said, stepping forward with his hands raised innocently, placing his body between the Avengers and Loki, "The Gauntlet has gems inlaid in it that each have a unique power. One of them is called Soul. It can control someone's very being, or influence it, in this case. Thanos was being subtle, building on what was there, rather than taking complete control, making it obvious what was happening. The gem is missing from the Vault."

Noticeably, Loki grimaced and finished off his drink at that, in one gulp, pouring himself another.

"I think that is, perhaps, enough alcohol," Fandral suggested with a placating smile, which turned nervous when Loki shot him a withering glare, "...My Prince."

"It's later," Volstagg said, laughing as Loki turned his glare upon him, "He's dwelling."

"So you're saying," Steve cut in, stepping forward, "That Loki was under this guy's control the whole time he was here."

"Yes," Thor said, grinning triumphantly.

"Yeah, not buying it," Clint said, cocking his gun, "Sorry, but this is the God of Lies, right? How would you possibly know that he's telling the truth about this? He could have taken the gem-thingy, himself, and orchestrated this all to make us trust him and then stab us all in the back."

Loki looked thoughtful.

"Clever," Loki said with a slightly manic grin, "That sounds like something I would do."

"Brother!" Thor hissed at him, "You are not helping!"

"It's just a bit of fun, brother," Loki said, eyebrows raised in an innocent expression, as he slumped slightly and continued to nurse his fourth glass of scotch.

"Well," Steve said, raising a hand toward Clint, "We hear them out, then decide, alright?"

Loki smiled deviously behind his glass, turning Mind in his other hand idly. It was just a nudge. A harmless little nudge.

* * *

SHIELD was not called. Not immediately, anyway. They sat, stiffly, in the many couches and chairs that decorated the room. Tony mused lightly that he was running out of room for all the crazy people. On one couch Thor's friends all sat shoulder to shoulder, and on another, Clint, Natasha and Steve did the same. Bruce and Tony sat next to each other, a little more comfortably, in the third. In the single chair sat Thor, and Loki seemed to chose standing, leaning more heavily on his staff with each passing minute, and sipping his fifth scotch (Or was it sixth, now? God, how was he _not_ hammered?).

It seemed that Loki had taken it personally that he was controlled by this Thanos, regardless of how Thor continually said that no one could resist Soul, and was wallowing. It was one of his own favorite pastimes, and, after slipping his best blue label off of the shelves and under the counter, he let Loki carry on without attempting to stop him anymore. And, man; the guy could drink. He should have expected that; viking, right? All the old stories (Hey, he'd done his research) spoke of how, in the halls of Asgard, there was feasting and drinking to put any mortal men to shame.

"We'll inform SHIELD in the morning," Natasha was saying, "We'll have a full meeting where we can go over everything that you know. Will we be receiving further backup?"

Thor shifted uncomfortably and Loki made a face.

"He's going to kill me," Loki said inelegantly, "Gonna kill me, and it's your fault, brother. You broke me out. Gonna _behead_ me. He's always wanted to do that. Always what he says he'll do. Why's he always say that? 'You'll fix this, Loki, or I'll have your head!' Always my head."

Perhaps he _was _slightly hammered. He finished off the glass.

"That isn't healthy," Bruce said.

"What do you mean, _broke you out_?" Natasha bit out.

Loki _giggled,_ breaking off with a snort, which made him laugh again.

"No, it is not," He said, "And by 'broke me out', I mean that Odin is unaware that we are here. We came to Midgard against his wishes, and my imprisonment."

People should not be able to say words like 'unaware' and 'imprisonment' while that drunk, it's not right.

"You broke yourself out," Thor pointed out, "I just encouraged you to."

Loki paused, narrowing his eyes, thinking for a moment, then grinned.

"This is true," He said.

"Brother, perhaps you _should_ stop drinking," Thor said, looking at his brother worriedly, "I can count on one hand the number times I've seen you drunk. I know you're... _angry_, but you are quickly approaching unhealthy levels of consumption."

"You have _seen_ me drunk a handful of times," Loki said, tilting his glass at Thor, "I have _been_ drunk a great deal many more. I know my limits."

"Well this is... fun," Bruce said, standing suddenly, "But, it's two in the morning."

Tony frowned lightly, glancing at a clock on the wall. It was just after two. He really has to stop waking up in the middle of the night.

"Wait, that's it?" Clint asked, "We're all okay with this? No proof, no nothing? 'Cause, I sure as hell won't be able to sleep with this guy in the house."

"I can go elsewhere," Loki offered, "I have the means."

"Hell, no," Clint said sharply, "You're staying where we can keep an eye on you."

Loki sighed.

"Well, do make up your mind," He said, setting the bottle and glass on the table, "I have expended a large amount of energy today, and with the consumption of seven glasses of scotch, – good scotch, by the way; my compliments upon your taste Mr. Stark – I believe I am about to pass out."

With that, he wavered on his feet, hand going to his forehead, and slumped only an inch before Thor caught him. Thor looked sadly down at his brother as he lifted one of his arms over his shoulder, holding him up. Loki's eyes slipped shut and his body fell slack against his brother.

"Anthony," Thor said, looking at Tony – Oh, come on; puppy eyes is cheating.

"Yeah, follow me," Tony said, standing, "My house, I say he stays. We've got plenty of rooms. If it makes you feel any better, Barton, I'll have JARVIS monitoring him. If he so much as twitches, we'll know."

"Fine," Clint muttered.

"I'd just like to say something," Sif said firmly, drawing the attention of the room.

Sif stared them all down fiercely. The suspicious one was getting on her nerves, and the woman sitting beside him silently glaring her disapproval wasn't helping. She had known Loki for a thousand years; more. She grew up with him and Thor; they played together, hunted together, and fought together. He may have not been the easiest person to be around, or be friends with, but despite their near constant disagreements that is what they were at the end of the day; friends. She may not like it. He may not like it. But, a thousand years of being forced to put up with each other doesn't just go away. So, maybe, she was taking this a little personally. And, yes, maybe Loki _was _lying to them. She had come to expect his mendacity in most things.

But, she _knows, _almost instinctively, that the only reason Loki is here is to help; to possibly repair the damage he had done. She is his friend, even though the thought of that left a sick taste in her mouth, and she looks out for her friends.

"I just want to make this clear," She said, eying each person in the room individually with as withering a glare as she could muster, "Loki is a lot of things. But know this; he is our friend first. I'd like you to think about what that means. That is, if honor and friendship mean the same thing here as it does in Asgard."

The red haired woman was eying her strangely, in a both wary and appreciative way; as if sizing her up.

"If you dare to lay a hand upon him." Sif continued, "If you dare try to imprison him, or threaten him in some way; it is not just he who you will be against, if that is not formidable enough already. He is our friend and we _will_ defend him."

Thor was looking at her with watering eyes, smiling softly and gratefully. The woman with red hair nodded to her respectfully, and the man beside her grimaced and looked away. There was a tense silence in the room as no one knew quite how to respond. Suddenly Sif felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder. She glanced up to see Fandral grinning nervously around at everyone, trying vainly to diffuse the situation.

"And, if _any_ of you," Sif hissed, "Breathe a _single word_ of what I just said, to _him_. I _will_ strangle you."

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly. Loki felt like his mouth was stuffed with cotton and Thor was dancing on his head. Tentatively he opened one eye, only to immediately shut it when greeted with dim light of dawn that shone in through the window. Loki turned onto his back, the soft mattress shifting slightly under him, an arm coming up to rest over his eyes. He breathed deeply and frowned. This was not the smell of his room. His room smelled like books and dried leaves.

In a rush that almost hurt, the events of the longest day of his life came pouring back to him. A peaceful morning in the garden had turned into a day of roiling emotions and strain, both physical and psychological. Loki exhaled, a chill running up his spine. He was a liar, plain and simple; sometimes he thought it might even be compulsive. He had never allowed himself to feel guilt for his lies, but there was no mistaking the heavy feeling in his gut this morning. He hadn't meant to do it, really. It was even more that he didn't exactly lie, rather than just letting Thor believe what he will. There was nothing he should feel _bad_ about. It wasn't even relevant.

But, lords, when Thor had assumed such a thing so readily. It was what he wanted to believe, wasn't it? Why not let him? It is simpler; much simpler than suffering... well... _Thor_. Endearing, at times, but wholly unwelcome at others. He would pity and he would tip-toe. And, certainly after Loki's little _outburst_, in which he most certainly did _not_ cry, he would try oh so desperately to fix it all_. _He would console and apologize, and worse yet try to make him _talk_ about it. Let it never be said that Loki Odinson did not like to talk, but not about this. Thor would stomp about thinking he could make things better just by wanting them to be that way and all manner of other _infuriating_ things that Loki just...

Could not deal with at present.

Loki forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his face tiredly. He frowned as his hand met bandage and he was reminded of the minor burn he had sustained while under attack by the Chitauri. Despite the day's events, and the way in which he had fallen into the realm of dreams, he had hardly gotten any sleep. Hours, at best. It was a state he had grown used to. Sleep rarely found him, and when it did it was merciless and drove him off in an unreasonably short amount of time. Loki dared to open his eyes again, the light making him flinch, but he resolutely kept his eyes from closing. He cautiously slid out of the comfortable bed, swaying only slightly when his feet touched the ground; bare. Loki grimaced. Thor. He glanced around and found his armor and leathers set neatly on a glass table nearby.

Loki moved to wave his arm and clean the sweat and grime of Álfheim and a short night's sleep away and clothe himself, but stopped as his magic weakly attempted to rise at his demand. After a moment's thought he spoke.

"JARVIS, correct?" He asked to to empty room, trying to not feel foolish.

"That is correct," The computer responded.

"Is there a washroom nearby?" Loki asked more confidently.

"Just across the hall," JARVIS answered, and Loki swore he heard his door unlocking. Interesting.

"Thank you, JARVIS," Loki said, and walked briskly toward the door. A shower would be most welcome. Magic was convenient, but not quite so soothing.

"You are welcome, sir," JARVIS replied with what sounded like slight surprise and pleasure.

He emerged some ten minutes later, refreshed and clad in his leathers and attached decorative shoulder plate. He glanced either way down the hall, then into 'his' room to see that it was no longer at all dark outside, the sun rising brightly. Loki tested the waters with his magic, and upon its much more eager answer than earlier, pulled upon it to bring him up to the top floor where they had arrived.

He was met with a spectacular view.

The outside air was surprisingly clear and crisp; the air of late autumn. He stepped forward, gazing out over the immense buildings of Manhattan, crossing his arms over his chest with a dry smile. The city was impressive; he could admit that. Barring his recent debacle, the last time he had been to Midgard was over a century ago. They had nothing quite so striking, then. Loki caught a glimpse of a half-repaired building out of the corner of his eye and his mood darkened considerably.

With a snarl he turned from the sprawling cityscape, shutting his eyes and falling cross-legged to the concrete ground. He took a deep breath, focusing intently on his magic, and summoned his staff from the pocket of space in which he had kept it. He held the staff, in its smaller scepter form, to his side and channeled his magic smoothly and precisely through it. Such a ritual must be without even the most miniscule error.

With a lurch, his consciousness was thrown through space. In an instant his projection appeared upon a familiar, desolate rock. Loki bit back a cold fear as The Other passed in front of him, moving toward the strange staircase that floated nearby. He let a satisfied smile curl his lips. To conceal oneself was a simple matter, though a bit more difficult while projecting; if people did not expect to see you, or did not wish to, it was easy to trick their mind into to believing that you were not there. People are blind only by their own design. It was how he had first observed the Tesseract on Midgard, and visited Thor in the SHIELD encampment, though he was physically there in the case of Thor's banishment.

Loki followed as The Other walked slowly and, Loki noticed, fearfully up the steps. He had hoped to catch something useful, and it seemed that fortune smiled upon him today. No doubt, thanks to the Lord of Prosperity's blessing. He had intended that his first action upon the return of his powers would be to garner what information he could from spying on The Other; the only one whom he knew spoke to Thanos. Ælfæd had taken up quite a bit more time, and magic, than he had anticipated. The transportation of six people from Álfheim to Midgard was no small feat, either.

"The armies await your command," The Other rasped as they reached the top of the stairs.

Loki stepped past The Other and toward the large stone – for lack of a better term – throne in the center of the platform. From this angle he could see a hand clad in gold resting upon the arm, his fingers drumming lightly. Loki felt almost frozen in place, unable to step forward further and look upon The Eternal One.

"Patience," Thanos rumbled, and Loki's eyes were drawn by a flash of green in his hand. Thanos turned Soul between his fingers and Loki found himself transfixed. With a jolt he looked away, "The Tesseract is ours, my... associate within Asgard has assured that."

Loki felt dread pool in his stomach. They already had their means to transporting their armies across the Nine Realms? What were they waiting for? The troupe that had attacked him in Álfheim made much more sense now. He had not sensed any other presences upon Yggdrasil, and it was too large a group to have travelled the branches together.

"We have been patient," The Other said, stepping closer, "You promised revenge. You promised us the princeling and the mortal."

"And you shall have them, yet," Thanos said as Loki held back a shudder, "All must go exactly right. When winter falls upon Midgard, we will have war, and you will have your revenge. Seven Hives; we will launch seven attacks across Midgard simultaneously. The Tesseract is in proper hands now, and here we have the means to use it to its full potential."

"Hives?" The Other hissed, "Thousands died when one Hive was destroyed by that wretched mortal."

"You will do as I command," Thanos' voice thundered as he stood, "I've no need of my slave in Asgard any longer; perhaps, if you wish to be so disagreeable, I should simply _ensure_ you cooperation."

The Other flinched away, bending into a deep bow. Loki felt dwarfed by Thanos' towering stature, and though all he saw was The Eternal One's back he felt awed and terrified at the same time. Here was a creature who once lorded over all the Nine Realms. Here was a being so great that Bor himself once knelt to him. Here was a thing that the All-Father _feared_.

"Certainly not, Lord," He placated, "Seven Hives."

Suddenly Thanos turned, and Loki looked upon his face in shock. The creature was purple-skinned, with a large jaw and he scowled darkly, bright blue eyes glowing. A gleaming gold crown sat atop his head, and Loki could do nothing but stare awestruck.

"The stench of magic is thick in the air," Thanos boomed.

Panic gripped Loki and he stumbled back a step. He forced himself to take a steadying breath and made to tear himself away from this wretched place. He lurched slightly, but a striking pain split through his mind and he doubled over, clutching at his head, eyes snapping shut. A dark laugh echoed through the stale, desolate air of the barren rock.

"And where are you going, little princeling?" Thanos asked. Loki kept his eyes shut, trying desperately to concentrate, but there nothing short of cold terror in his mind and in his bones. Thanos was standing only _just_ before him, "Please, stay a while."

Loki could only stay, kneeling upon the rock cold even to him, holding his head through he ringing pain. Suddenly, _something_ shifted inside of him and his eyes snapped open.

Loki screamed.

* * *

"Good Morning, Mr. Stark," Tony awoke to the sound of JARVIS' voice, leisurely swimming on the edge of wakefulness, "Loki Odinson has awoken."

_That_ made him jolt upright.

"JARVIS, what time is it?"

"Six fifty-seven, sir. He has asked where the washroom is, shall I unlock his door?"

Tony rolled out of bed easily, stretching slightly. It was not the earliest he'd ever been up, but then, he'd never been a regular sleeper. Up at all hours of the night or sometimes working for days on end.

"Yeah, go for it," Tony replied after only a second's hesitation.

"Shall I inform you when he leaves the shower?"

"Now I just feel creepy," Tony said with a frown, pulling a black tank over his head.

"Is that a yes, sir?"

"It's a 'yes, but let it go on the record that I think it's creepy'," Tony responded dryly, "Have the coffee ready by the time I get down to the kitchen, please."

"Of course, Mr. Stark," JARVIS said.

Tony quickly made his way down the hall and into the rather large kitchen slash living room slash dining room. Steve was sitting at the counter, staring at his cereal with a furrowed brow, munching on it lightly. Steve was usually the first one up out of all of them, except maybe Natasha (She kind of does this thing where she appears and disappears at random with Clint. God only knows when she actually wakes up, or if she sleeps at all.).

"You okay, there, Cap?" Tony asked, as he made a beeline for the coffee machine that was just finishing brewing the pot.

"I don't like this," Steve said, with a frown.

"You're the one who said we should hear them out," Tony pointed out as he poured the coffee into his mug.

"Yeah," Steve said, frown deepening, "I did."

Tony clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder, making the soldier jump slightly.

"Don't think about it too much," He said.

"I can't help it, Tony," Steve said, "Something just doesn't sit right with me. I get that something is coming; I get that we probably need his help. I can even wrap my head around the mind control thing-"

"Soul control," Tony corrected.

"But something just seems... off," Steve finished.

"Well bury it, Cap," Tony said, squeezing Steve's shoulder lightly, "Or Xena will chop off your head."

Steve sighed and resumed glaring at his breakfast as Tony sipped at his coffee.

"Sir, Loki has exited the shower."

"That's creepy," Steve commented, making a face.

"Let him know how to get here," Tony said.

"Yes, s-"

There was silence for a second. Tony's expression turned worried and he set down his coffee, exchanging a nervous glance with Steve.

"JARVIS?"

"I apologize, sir," JARVIS responded, in an annoyed tone, "I lost his position for a moment. He seems to have transported to the top floor, outdoor platform."

Tony let out a short sigh of relief, picking up his coffee again and walking toward the door.

"Maybe we ought to have a sober chat with him before we call SHIELD," Tony remarked as he walked out of the kitchen, calling back, "See ya later, Steve."

Tony stepped out of the elevator and immediately his eyes locked onto The figure sitting on the ground outside, facing the building. Tony frowned and walked closer, noticing that Loki had his scepter in his hand and his eyes were closed. He turned to move toward the door and head outside but was stopped in his tracks as a hand locked around his arm.

"Disturb him and you may kill him," A deep, accented voice spoke from his side.

Tony turned sharply to see that the hand belonged to-

Wait, wait, wait. Come on. Name. Think Happy, remember? Think Happy? What kind of hint to himself to remember a name is that? OH!

"Hogun," Tony said as the Æsir loosened his grip on his arm. The warrior nodded sharply, eyes meeting his.

"He is performing what is called Astral Projection," Hogun said, gesturing to Loki, "It requires great concentration and if you were to break that concentration, his mind could be lost, disconnected from his body."

"That would be bad," Tony said, swallowing thickly, looking out at the god sitting cross-legged on the platform, "Uh, what's Astral Projection?"

"I do not know precisely what it entails," Hogun said, "But it involves shifting his consciousness across space."

"How does that-"

"I am a warrior," Hogun cut him off shortly, "Not a sorcerer. If you wish to know, you must ask Loki."

"Right," Tony responded, frowning.

Tony realized that these are the first things that he had heard Hogun say. Tony watched the god sitting a short ways away, eyes closed and clearly focusing. He sipped idly at his coffee, and Hogun silently stood next to him. So, maybe, he'd passed the threshold of creepy, Tony thought. He felt fairly creepy right about now, but it was interesting to see. He would have to figure out the workings of this.

Suddenly, Loki's eyes snapped open, and Tony knew that something was very, very wrong. The scepter clattered to the ground and Loki reached up to clutch at his head, agony ripping across his face. Tony responded in the only way he really thought he could; by rushing to the door and out onto the landing as quickly at he could. His arm was roughly grabbed again as he came within feet of the god. He viciously tried to snatch his arm away, but his strength was no match.

"You will make it worse," Hogun said.

Loki screamed.

"I don't think I can make it _worse_," Tony hissed, ripping his arm away as Hogun looked in growing horror at Loki.

Tony knelt down and grabbed Loki's shoulders, turning his body to face him. Loki's head was turned toward the ground, head held tightly in his hands as he screeched his agony. Tony shook him harshly.

"Loki!" He said loudly, "Damn it, I hope you can hear me, 'cause you gotta listen."

Loki 's throat seemed to run dry and he sucked in a sharp breath. Tony put his hands on either side of Loki's face, forcing his wide, unseeing eyes to meet his. Tony knew terror like that and it made him sick to his stomach.

"Loki," Tony repeated urgently, "Loki, you've got to come back."

Loki shook, and his eyes closed again, his hands scratched against the concrete as they were pulled forcefully into fists, leaving lines of blood.

"Loki!"

Loki's eyes snapped open once more and he breathed raggedly. His eyes darted around, before settling on Tony, wide and afraid. Loki lifted a bloodied hand and gripped Tony's shirt as he fell forward against him, shaking like a leaf a gasping for breath. Tony relaxed, though he was certain he should have tensed, and put a hand on Loki's head, threading his fingers through slightly damp hair as soft as he might have expected.

"They strike," Loki breathed brokenly against him, "At the start of winter. Seven different armies. Seven different targets."

Tony pushed Loki up, by the shoulders. His face was ragged and tired and the bandage on his face was red, but the terror that had been there had faded somewhat.

"You... heard this? Saw this guy?" Tony asked.

Loki closed his eyes and shuddered, nodding.

"Are you..." Tony began nervously, slowly remembering what was going on and who this was.

"I'll be fine," Loki snapped, drawing back suddenly, hand falling from his shirt.

The god stood sharply, but immediately faltered, and Tony stood straight, catching him on his way up.

"Easy, there."

Loki scowled darkly and averted his face as Tony supported him. Hogun came up on his other side, giving Tony a grateful and incredulous look as he helped maneuver Loki back inside. They set him in the nearest chair that they came to just as the elevator opened.

"Brother!"

"I thought it prudent to wake everyone," JARVIS said as Thor rushed toward them, Sif, Fandral and Volstagg at his heels.

"I'm fine, Thor," Loki said shortly as his brother knelt at his side, puppy-eyes shining.

"What were you doing?" Sif demanded.

"I was trying to give us all a little more to go on," Loki snapped, "And I succeeded. Thanos took control of someone in Asgard, someone powerful enough to get the Tesseract. He has it."

"Shit," Tony said, running and hand through his hair.

"Well, look at this," A very familiar voice spoke, "How come I wasn't invited?"

* * *

Tony got the feeling that Loki didn't like Fury. It may have been the dark glare he was sending his way or it may have been the scathing insults that appeared every five seconds that gave it away. Either way, Loki did not like Fury. That's okay, though, because the feeling was quite clearly mutual. Loki looked tired, and entirely not in the mood to do this right now, and Thor stood at his shoulder, flanked by their friends; which made a rather imposing tableau. It was interrupted only by Sif pinching Loki every time he insulted Fury's intelligence, competence, or eye.

He seemed to have a thing against the eye.

Regardless, it was tense.

"I don't think you understand, _Loki_," Fury spat, "You are a war criminal. You tried to enslave the human race, and killed hundreds of people. You say you're here to help us against this Thanos, but this is the guy _you_ were working for in the first place. You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little skeptical."

"We have explained-" Thor tried to say, but was cut off.

"I heard you the first four times," Fury snapped, "And hearing it again won't make me believe it any more."

"Surely, you must see-"

"No, Thor," Fury said, sighing and rubbing his temple, "I don't see. I have to make judgment based on what I know as fact, what I have proof of; not your opinions. And what I know, is that Loki is dangerous. He belongs in prison."

Sif stepped quickly in front of Loki, snarling at Fury. Fandral followed, hand on the hilt of his sword. Volstagg put a Hand on Loki's shoulder and Hogun merely glared grimly, frown deepening. Fury glared fiercely at each one of them and they gave as good as they got. Fury conceded with a scowl, stepping back.

"Look," He said, "I believe that this threat is real, and we will be prepared. But, we can't trust you. Something this big? We can't afford it."

"Are you kidding?" Tony said, startling the group, "He just went through a hell of a lot to get us some good intel. I think that says something."

Fury looked at Tony in disappointment, but that was the norm, so Tony didn't even flinch.

"That's just the thing, Stark," He said, "We can't know if it's good or not. If it's truth or a lie."

Loki only half listened as he simmered. He was still reeling from whatever that _thing_ had done to him. Anger burned within him at the thought of it, covering the fear that most certainly was not there. Thanos' terrible countenance was all he saw in front of him and he had to concentrate to stop his body from shaking. Stark's interference had saved his mind; his life. But, in the end, Thanos would strike, and his vengeance would be swift and terrible. The sheer power that rolled off of him was palpable even in his projection form, and that was without the Gauntlet. Without the Power Gem. All he had was pretty Soul, dancing in his hand.

The Tesseract, with the proper powers that Thanos could provide, will open the doors for legions of Chitauri to swoop in upon Midgard and leave nothing but scorched earth.

They were all going to die.

"Enough," Loki hissed sharply, and the bickering ceased. He stepped forward in front of Sif and Fandral, staring Fury down, "I do not care whether or not you trust me. I do not care what you or your organization do. The only thing of import is that the people who _can_ help defend Midgard, _will_. Believe it or not, I am one of those people; and I know that the rest will follow, because it is what must be done. I will do all I can to find out where Thanos will strike with his seven armies, and we will be prepared. Do what you will, but do not interfere."

Fury glanced around the room. Natasha met his gaze head on, face deceptively passive, but he'd known her for long enough now that she believes that they are trapped. Clint looked oddly thoughtful, frowning lightly. Captain Rogers stared at the table, clearly unhappy. Stark looked the most relaxed of all of them, and damned well set on trying his best to defy him at every turn, even if it meant siding with Loki. The Æsir all just glared ferociously, and Fury had to admit that he wouldn't dare make a move against them, and they were sorely needed allies if any of this was to be believed. Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked up, directly at Loki, who stared back unflinchingly.

"We'll be watching you."

* * *

The elevator closed behind him and he walked swiftly past the archway leading into the lobby, footsteps thudding with his displeasure.

"A word," a smooth voice spoke from behind him, "If you please."

Nick Fury scowled darkly in response, turning sharply to face the imposing god who stood tall and regal in the archway behind him.

"I've had enough of your words for one day," Fury said, eyes narrowing upon Loki, "I don't like you and I don't trust you."

"And rightfully so," Loki said, stepping toward him, eyes glinting dangerously, "I would be disappointed if you did not."

"And we're all here to please you," Fury spat.

"Sarcasm," Loki 'tsked' disapprovingly, "The recourse of a weak mind. How utterly _dull_."

"You've managed to get Stark on your side," Fury said, fist tightening at his side, "And you brought along your brother and few friends who have your back; they're the only reason you aren't in a cell right now."

"I think we both know," Loki said, lips twisting into a savage grin, as he spread his arms, "That you have no prison that can contain me."

"What is it that you want?" Fury said, stepping toward him in a show of fearlessness.

"Oh, it is not what _I_ want," Loki corrected in a condescending tone, "Rather, what you need. The truth, Director Fury. You should be grateful, for I am told that it rarely passes my lips."

"What truth?" Fury demanded, though, Loki thought in amusement, he seemed to already know the answer.

"I was never possessed by the Soul Gem," Loki said simply, leaving that to the air.

"And why are you telling me this?" Fury asked sharply. Loki smiled darkly.

"Come now, Director," Loki encouraged, "You are a man of intelligence. A man of _strategy_. What would I have to gain by offering you this?"

"Trust?" Fury asked, breathing a laugh, "You want me to trust _you_?"

Loki scowled.

"Do not mock me, mortal," He hissed.

"Maybe you should just leave," Fury said confidently, glaring at the god, "Go run home to daddy. We don't need someone who's lying to us. We've proven already that we don't need your help to stop an intergalactic war."

"War?" Loki breathed with a chilling laugh, giving Fury a disbelieving look. He stepped closer, menacingly, like a predator stalking its prey, eyes narrowing threateningly upon the man before him for a fraction of a second in a cold, mocking gesture, "Oh, no. You stopped a _siege_ on one city by a man without conviction, half-mad and backed by an army of mindless mongrels. You know _nothing_ of what comes. Thanos-" Loki laughed darkly, with a twinge of hysteria, "-Thanos will tear your world to pieces."

"Only half-mad?" Fury said with a short mocking twist to his lips, standing tall in the face of the god's imposing advance.

"You undervalue the threat I could pose to you," Loki said, lip curling up in a snarl, "You think, because you beat me once, that you know my power and have found it wanting. I am offering you truth and accord, and you slap it away as if I am unworthy of your notice. Allow me to enlighten you."

With a viciousness he had not called upon since his invasion of Midgard, Loki summoned a swell of power, thickening the air with dark energy. Fury stiffened, to Loki's satisfaction, feeling the energy around him, biting and cold. There was nothing in the world that Loki hated more than being deemed _unworthy_. Anger burned, bright enough that Loki ignored the shame creeping up at the feeling. Fury was a truly infuriating man, and he was rather sick of him.

"One day," Loki hissed, stalking slowly close, eyes taking on a wide-eyed, haunted look, "I know not when, I know not how, nor why, I will rain fire upon this world and all others. Yggdrasil will _rot_ and the great towers of Asgard will _crumble_. I will bring the legions of the dead to swallow all things and The Nine Realms will beg _me_ for mercy! But, until that day-!"

The god drew up sharply, standing tall almost toe to toe with the man, reigning in his power.

"Until that day," He breathed, "I am Æsir in all things save blood; and it is the duty of the Æsir to protect the Nine Realms. The Ragnarok burns ever at my heels, but I do not forget myself. I do not wish to see the worlds burn in Thanos' vengeance. I come here seeking to right past wrongs, but I cannot do so if you fight me at every turn."

"You ask me to trust you," Fury said, meeting Loki's eyes defiantly, "Then you tell me to be afraid of you."

"I am telling you to respect my power, and it is your decision whether or not to make this easier on us all and trust me," Loki said impassively, drawing back, and turning away, swiftly retreating, pausing at the doorway, "But yes. Do not think, for one _second_, that because I take my charge seriously, that you should not _fear_ me."

Loki turned at the corner, intent on a quick departure, but Fury's voice stalled him once more.

"I've just got one question for you, then," Fury called from behind him, "Why lie to them in the first place?"

"Thor eagerly assumed," Loki said, laughing through a bitter smile, "I merely did not correct him."

"Why?" Fury asked, stepping toward him slightly, "Clearly they were prepared to forgive you without it; so _why_?"

"Why does it matter?" Loki hissed, suddenly defensive, turning fully back to face Fury.

"You want me to trust you?" Fury said, "Then tell me _why_. Tell me why or I'll just keep on thinking that you have some ulterior motive here."

"It is easier," Loki snapped, a spark of green shooting up his arm suddenly, "Let him think what he pleases, what he _wants_. Let them all. This way he will not bear the guilt of my actions; of _his_. Let him think that all is well; that it can be as it once was, because nothing changed, after all. And perhaps he will then leave me in peace to sort through the haunting of my mind _alone_. Without his pity, without his apologies, and without his interfering _concern_. Thinking he can _fix _me. Let him be ignorant and happy with the thought that I am well and sane."

His footsteps clicked sharply around the corner and Fury stood still in the empty lobby of Stark Tower. After a moment of staring at the spot where Loki had stood before him, tall and imposing, he turned on his heel and walked quickly toward the doors, but not before calling off the sniper team he'd set up in the building across the street from Stark Tower.

Tony watched the security monitor, holding his chest, willing his heart to stop beating so loud.

* * *

A/N:...Please say you liked it? In a review, maybe?

**I have a DeviantArt account and I drew a picture for this chapter, my first piece of art with my new graphics tablet; please, let me know what you think:**

**http : / cherry-top . deviantart . com / # / d51jo1s**

**Remove the spaces.**


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Oh my Loki, It's done. Thank you all so much; you were so very, very, very helpful and I am grateful beyond belief. It isn't exactly the 8000 word truck that Chapter 3 was, but it's done, and it's almost 7000 words altogether. Thank you, again, so much. And, thank you for believing in me. I hope that this chapter satisfies. I'm still a little uneasy about it, but I hope my fears are unfounded and you enjoy it.

**Please don't just think you see something familiar from my attempts and skim. I've changed a lot all over the place in the parts that I used. If you skim, Loki will _know_ and he _will_ sick Fenrir on you.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers.**

* * *

Conviction

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

He felt a little stupid about being more panicked now than he had been when the god had first shown up late last night. Fury walked out of the doors to Stark Tower and into the street where a car awaited him, just as Loki vanished from the screen, in a flash of green. Tony felt terribly like he just intruded on something, but at the same time he couldn't help a rush of indignation at the revelation of Loki's deception. It raised too many questions. Did he regret it? Was he still unstable? Is he planning something? What was Fury thinking, just walking away after that?

Should he tell Thor?

He almost felt sick at the last thought, for some reason. As much as it had to do with all of him (Especially Tony; it's his house and he'd like to know if there was a psychopath living with him.), it also seemed to be something infinitely private; something he had reluctantly (snappishly) shared with Fury. Tony drummed his fingers furiously on the desk he was sitting at, staring at the empty security feed of the lobby and the one that had switched, locked onto Loki, to the outside platform of the top floor.

The camera's angle only allowed a view of a sliver of the side of his face. The picture was good enough to see the whiteness of his knuckles where he gripped the metal rail. He clearly needed some time to cool off. That set Tony on edge. It was painfully obvious that, if Loki had made _some_ kind of return to sanity, he was still _off_.

"Hey, Tony. I've got an idea for-"

Tony spun in his chair, standing sharply, eyes darting to the door, where Bruce looked rather like a deer in the headlights, thrown off by Tony's reaction. Tony scrubbed his hand through his hair and let out a heavy breath.

"Bruce," He said, wearily.

"I... uh," Bruce began, stepping forward hesitantly, "I missed something, huh?"

Tony laughed.

"Understatement," Tony said, taking a deep breath and standing straight, clapping his hands together, "Fury stopped by."

"Didn't go well?" Bruce asked with a nervous smile.

"It _didn't_," Tony said, "But then... uh. I don't know. And Loki _did_ something to spy on Thanos, but it backfired, but he _did_ get something. That happened first, before Fury showed up. And then, uh... where were _you_?"

Tony paused after his question, looking at Bruce with a small half-grin that he knew gave away his distress, but didn't quite care. He was aware that he had started ranting nonsensically, and prayed that Bruce would distract him.

"Oh," Bruce's eyes lit up, "Sorry, I heard when JARVIS called, but I was a little busy. See, I was looking at the readings that JARVIS takes of the tower, for any changes caused by Loki's magic. There was a massive surge of energy when he teleported in; it only lasted half a second, but it was enough to analyze. Most of its properties are most consistent with radiation energy, with some variations that make all the difference. I wanted you to take a look before I asked him about it – but he looks kind of pissed off right now."

Bruce's eyes flickered to the screen behind Tony for a second, and he turned back around to face it. No such luck at being distracted. Loki's head was dipped down as he leaned over the rail, gripping the metal; shoulders stiff.

"You want to mix science and his magic," Tony stated.

"Come on, Tony," Bruce said, stepping up next to him, "You can't tell me you aren't curious. I haven't been able to _stop _thinking about the possibilities since I first studied that staff of his on the Helicarrier. We've got an opportunity here."

It was easy to agree with that. It was honestly fascinating, especially seeing what Loki was able to do with his power. Like all things in the universe, it had to be able to be explained, somehow, with science. To pick that apart, to try and figure it out, would be the most exciting thing he could think of.

"Don't get me wrong," Tony assured, "Yeah, I'd like to look into it; but is it really such a good idea to ask Loki about it?"

"Who else would we ask?" Bruce asked, brow furrowing, "I don't like the guy, but-"

"Do you believe him?" Tony asked, fixing Bruce with a serious glare, mouth set in a firm line. Bruce's face became unreadable for a second, before he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't know," Bruce said, shrugging, "I want to; for Thor's sake, at least. I'm not sure how he'd take Loki lying about this."

"And, either way, you think this is a good idea?" Tony prompted.

Bruce grinned sheepishly.

"It wouldn't be the stupidest thing I've ever done in the name of science," He said.

"Why, _Bruce_," Tony said, aghast, "Was that a _joke_ about the mean and green?"

"Look," Bruce said, raising his hands defensively, "I'm just saying that the benefits might outweigh the risks. But, if you don't think we can trust him, we'll play it safe for now and just put that on the back burner. We'll go on with... whatever we plan on doing about this latest crisis, keeping an eye on him."

"War, Bruce," Tony said soberly, "This... this is way more serious than just the latest crisis. This isn't Reed's latest experiment gone wrong. This isn't Xavier's kids making a fuss up in Canada. If he's lying about being controlled... can we afford to have him, a potentially _insane_ god, around? Can we afford to trust him about _anything_?"

Bruce gave him a long, tired look.

"Can we afford not to?" He asked with a sigh, "It's like you said, Tony. This will be way worse than anything we've seen so far. He might be lying about some things, but, I think he's here to help, and we _need_ it. This is serious. Thor looked downright scared, in a silent, weird way, when they told us about this guy. If nothing else, we can't afford to antagonize Thor and their friends."

Tony sighed, debating the merits of telling Bruce, or better yet, showing him what happened. If he knew, for sure, that Loki was lying, would he be saying the same? Exactly how much did this affect things? Thanos was still coming with armies. Earth was still threatened. The only difference between now and an hour ago is that he knew that Loki had willingly killed a few hundred people, which was what he thought half a day ago when he first showed up, anyway. Not to mention he had come clean, to Fury of all people, and Fury seemed to buy it.

He couldn't claim to be any more virtuous than Loki, nor could anyone who lived here at Stark Tower; except Steve and Pepper, and damn did he wish she was back from that conference right about now. He could do with a voice of reason. There were terrible things in the pasts of every one of the Avengers; he even doubted that Thor was sin free, despite not knowing him too well. Bottom line, he _knows_ what it is to have blood on his hands, and to want to make things right. Just as surely as everyone here knew. He couldn't judge someone based on a body count, as much as his brain wanted him to. His gut was telling him something else entirely, and he knew what he _could_ do. He could make sure that the past stayed there. He could make sure that the people under his protection were safe. He could make sure that they were making the right choice trusting Loki.

* * *

Standing out on the platform on the top floor of Stark Tower the shame flooded him. Loki rested his arms, crossed over each other, on the metal rail over the glass guards around the platform, allowing himself a moment of inelegance as he leaned forward, staring out over the city. It was a surprisingly soothing sight, and he wondered where the hours had gone as the sun shone brightly in the sky, reflecting off the tall buildings, indicating that it was some time after noon. He sighed wearily. He lets his anger overcome him and now he will never be free of it. Control is something he had always carefully maintained. Control is something he needed. Without it the floodgates opened and out poured his anger and his resentment and bitterness.

Loki grimaced. It had taken quite a bit to shut it back up, and he thought it under his control once more; yet, after Thanos' attack he had been left so off-balanced that Fury set him over the edge. Loki felt his cheeks burn, and his forehead fell against his forearms. He could take small solace in the fact that Fury seemed willing to give him a chance. He smiled bitterly as he realized that his anger had beget something positive. Though, still, he could not stand it. He hated this sick feeling. He remembers where it leads, and it is a dark place that he does not intend to revisit.

The thought of that place only served to make him grim his arms tighter and bury his head closer. It was like a daze; a half-remembered dream suffused in terrible feelings. The touch of any of those terrible feelings left him sick, now, and he lamented briefly on how easy it had been when he hadn't allowed any of it through. But, that was a terribly _selfish_ thought, and that is one of those terrible feelings and now he feels sick again.

Mortals think they are sneaky. They think their attempts at walking lightly can fool a person. But, mortals, like his brother, only like to think things. The soft sounds and the shift in the air, no matter how slight, was easily perceived by his senses. He could garner much from the way someone approached without even looking at them. Irregular footfalls; doubt. Too-even breathing; forced calm. High heart rate; fear. The low hum of energy and the feel of something magnetic.

"Mr. Stark," Loki greeted, lifting his head.

The man stopped short, clearly startled, and Loki held back a smug smile.

"Now, that's creepy," Tony commented.

"What is creepy about it?" Loki said, turning his eyes tiredly upon Stark, who stood a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, looking at him with a frown, "I am merely observant."

"Observant are you?" Tony asked, stepping toward him and leaning over the rail as Loki was, "Well, did you maybe _observe_ that twenty-first century Earth has no concept of privacy?"

"The cameras in the lobby? I am not simple, Mr. Stark," Loki huffed, looking away, "One does not invade a Realm without becoming familiar with the technology at their disposal. Know your enemy. I knew your cameras were there, just as surely as I knew you would find me in Stuttgart."

Oh, this had been his intention. There were things that needed to be known to Stark, just as surely as they needed to be known to Fury. But, it was sooner than he thought, and he was so terribly tired right about now, and he wished Stark would go away, as much as he knew that this had to happen.

"So, you knew I'd see it?" Tony asked, turning toward him, only half leaning on the rail now, "Do you realize how much you spit in the face of logic?"

Loki faced him again, taking in his entirely befuddled expression. Stark was tense; shoulders stiff despite the picture he put forth of complete relaxation.

"You fear me," Loki stated.

"Well, you basically just admitted that you killed hundreds of people of your own free will," Tony deadpanned, "Forgive a guy for being a little worried."

Loki laughed bitterly.

"How hypocritical of you," He chided, in a bored tone, "And here I thought you were intelligent. I regret my actions, if it eases your worries. Do you?"

His tongue reached for words meant to sting and off-balance almost automatically. The shame was immediate and he internally berated himself for antagonizing Tony and forgetting his purpose. Tony Stark was the man who had fearlessly stalked toward him, spitting words of insult and threat, appealing to his own intelligence that had been left buried under the mad rage. Tony Stark was _smart_, and if there was anyone he needed to trust him more than Fury, it was Stark. He was the person to whom all the others looked. His defense was the reason that the Black Widow had kept her lips sealed in disapproval, but not defiance. He was the reason that the Captain would bow his head and comply, never thinking too deeply upon the foreign thoughts that Loki had pushed into his mind. He was the reason that Loki didn't have an arrow in his eye socket.

That is why Tony Stark needed to hear the same that Fury had. Stark had to trust him completely; which he did not. He had acted more in defiance of Fury than in defense of him, of this he had no illusions. It would do him no good to turn the man against him. The rest of this team of misfits had to look to him and see only his own conviction, if he is to truly have their support and trust. Although, this mistrust is the initial reaction he had expected, it was not the final ends to which he directed. Tony Stark would remain calm in the face of this all and he would try to understand. It was almost involuntary; Loki knew, all too well. He needs to pick things apart, he needs to _know_. And, above, all, he needs to protect. Loki knew that this desire would overcome his impulsiveness. It always would. Loki switched tactics sharply, forcing himself to shut down his automatic defenses.

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked sharply.

"Would you still have saved me," Loki began, smoothly steering his defensive reaction elsewhere, "If you had known? If you had known that it was of my own design that hundreds died? Thousands, if you include the Chitauri."

Tony's response was automatic and came with a practiced grin.

"And leave you out there screaming?" He said easily, "What would the neighbors think?"

Loki's face became carefully blank as he turned away. The thought of it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. Thanos' power was great, without the Infinity Gauntlet; something he had not entirely expected or taken into account. He had wished to do something productive, but he did it thoughtlessly; impulsively. He had likely lost any further opportunity to spy as such. He had lingered too long and ruined what he had set out to do; leaving him weak and pitifully afraid, brought back only by the help of this mortal. He'd have been lost forever in the torture that Thanos inflicted without Stark's steadying hands and beckoning call.

"And, just what were you trying to prove, this morning, anyway?" Tony asked, "That you weren't afraid of him? That you were useful? That you're just as big and brave as your brother-"

Loki spun on him sharply, standing straight and eyes flashing dangerously, though forcing his face to remain impassive.

"I wasn't trying to prove anything," He ground out, stepping forward and gripping the metal rail just beside Tony's arm hard enough that it bent under the pressure.

"Yeah, sorry, but; bullshit," Tony said, standing straight, toe to toe with Loki, glaring up at him fearlessly, and every bit as intimidated as a lion in the face of a gazelle, managing, despite the gross difference of height, to look every bit as tall and proud as the god before him. Tony pressed a finger to his chest and how _dare_ he-

"See," Tony continued as the metal beneath Loki's hand groaned in protest and the god's face remained blank, but his eyes gleamed with something else entirely, something dangerous and predatory, "I know your type. You're _always _trying to prove something. Trying to prove that you're smarter, better, stronger than they give you credit for. Trying to reach for a bar set so high that it's impossible to even come close to. Would I still have saved you? Yes. I would have, because it was the right thing to do; because I'm done trying to prove anything, and I'm done being pissed off about it, and I've started doing what my gut tells me is _right_. And, for the first time in my life, I feel _good_ about what I'm doing."

Startled, Loki took a step back, but Stark followed, relentless in his tirade. But, no, he was _Loki_. He would not _retreat_, like a chastised child. But, even as he swore this to himself the barriers rose and he fell back, knowing that this anger was no good and would lead nowhere kind. Fury surged forth and he imposed control, cutting it off. Control; he needed to be in control, and control of this situation was quickly slipping through his fingers as Stark pushed, and it was _not helping, _and couldn't he _see_ that?

"So, here's what you need to do," Tony said, grabbing hold of the lapel of his jacket, stopping his retreat – his weak, _pathetic_ retreat – "You need to get your shit straight. You need to figure out what you want. Figure out why you're here; why you're _really _here. Because if you're just trying to prove to daddy that you're-"

Loki's hand shot up, grabbing Tony's wrist in a tight, bruising hold. The _insulting, little_-

"I've nothing to prove to the one who calls himself my father," Loki snapped, forcing a calming breath before continuing on, "I am here for the very reason that I told Fury. I am here to stop Thanos. To do as is my duty; to protect the Nine Realms. What happened before and what is to happen after has no bearing on what happens now. I thought you were intelligent, Mr. Stark. I thought to have your trust and understanding of this. I am here for no other reason than to help!"

And, suddenly, Tony Stark was smiling a terribly devious smile. Loki's grip loosened and he blinked, furrowing a brow as Tony patted his chest lightly and stepped away. He walked backwards away, eyes trained on Loki.

"You know," He drawls, "For the God of Mischief, Lies and Trickery, reverse-psychology works remarkably well on you."

The door slid open and Tony turned and walked inside, leaving Loki staring after him in bewilderment. He'd been tricked by a mortal. _Again_. Loki's brow twitched in annoyance as previous anger fled; replaced by sheer irritation. Fury smoothly retreated back into the cracks and Loki allowed himself a short moment of relief before his surprise and annoyance superseded it. _What_ was the point of that? It was what he had intended to convey in the first place! Why poke and prod? Why insult? He shook himself out of his daze with annoyance, and, refusing to leave it at that, in the next second he was standing directly in front of Stark, just inside, arms crossed and irritation clear on his face. Stark was unfazed, looking up at him smugly.

"I had to make sure you were telling the truth," He said with a shrug, "My own way. Look, clearly, you've got some issues. But, you didn't throw me off the balcony, so, points for you. You're not completely off the rails. All my prodding got was the same thing that you told Fury, so, I don't think you're lying, or plotting something. 'Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' So, I guess you're really here to help; which is nice. Thanks."

He glared at the mortal standing before him, smug as can be, with his lips pressed tightly together. Of course, though, there was admiration floating around somewhere. Admiration similar to that he felt toward the Black Widow who had once also procured answers from him in a similar way. _You're a monster._ He did not take well to insults, especially in the state he had been those several months ago. This mortal was cleverer than he had anticipated, which was always a pleasure to come across. However, his tendency to be obnoxious was rather off-putting. Oh, that arrogance was just _far_ too irritating. Certainly not attractive, in the least. Yet, even beneath the smugness, Stark's dark eyes were ever calculating and analyzing. Trying to pick him apart and figure him out. Endlessly curious, as a proper genius is, and, unbidden, Loki felt a smirk tug at his lips.

He was reminded, rather starkly (Pun most certainly intended.), that humans were not to be underestimated. He was not unfamiliar with mortals, most certainly not, in fact. Many times he had found himself intrigued by how different, how fascinating, and how intelligent they could be when compared to the company he normally kept in Asgard. He would spend years, decades with them at times. Midgard was a truly inspiring place, filled with people living on an expiration date who made leaps and bounds in technology and philosophy and sociology unlike any other race. And Tony Stark was a rare breed even among them. Oh, but the man just _had_ to go and look even more pleased at Loki's expression.

"Now," Tony said, brushing by him with a pat on his bicep, to which Loki turned slightly and raised a brow, "If we're thinking 'start of winter' as the first day of winter, we have approximately two weeks. Which means, we don't have long to figure out where he's going to attack, and how we're going to repel him. We're a good deal outnumbered and..."

With something somewhere between amusement and annoyance at the man, he fell easily into step with him as he moved toward the elevator. The weight of anger had been lifted entirely and for that, he allowed himself to again feel gratitude toward Tony Stark. He huffed lightly to himself as Tony continued speaking, commanding attention with his words.

"Thank you," Loki interrupted simply, and casually, as if he were not acknowledging the fact that this man had saved him twice in one day.

Tony only turned slightly enough, as the elevator arrived, for Loki to see the smirk tugging at his lips. He made a motion with his hand to follow and Loki felt compelled to do so; entirely intrigued by the strange man who had gone from saving the world _from_ him to saving _him_ from Thanos' grasp, which he had foolishly thrown himself into, to standing defiant in front of Fury to egging him on relentlessly to outwitting him and to reminding him why he found mortals so utterly fascinating.

He hated when other people were right about things.

Realms away, an Ælf sneezed.

* * *

The first half hour, he was content to sit idly, watching the rectangle of moving pictures. When that hour came to an end, he grew restless. When a second came and went he became anxious. By the third he had had enough.

"Hours, Friend Barton."

"I'm sure they're _fine_."

"I must agree with Thor; it has been a very trying two days for Loki."

"Norns, has it really only been two days?"

"We were in three different Realms in one day."

"And Loki brought us to each, and slept little. He is surely exhausted, especially after this morning."

"He's _fine_. JARVIS, tell them he's fine."

"I am not authorized to answer this question to Clint Barton."

"Oh, _ouch_."

"I am going down there," Thor declared, standing from his chair.

"JARVIS isn't authorized to let anyone but Pepper into Tony's lab," Steve said, apologetically, taking hold of Thor's arm, stopping his march.

"Loki has been in there for hours with Friends Stark and Banner!" Thor said.

"JARVIS," Steve calls, "Tell him that everything is fine."

"All vital signs are normal," The computer responded.

"Oh, _ouch_," Clint repeats, "He answers _you_."

"Sir, might I remind you that your privileges would not have been taken away had you not-"

"No need to go there, HAL."

"See?" Steve assured, as Thor sits with a petulant expression. Pain crossed his face and he looked up at Steve with deep, sad eyes.

"I only just got him back, my friend," Thor spoke quietly, and Steve couldn't help but be touched by the depth of emotion in his tone, "I am worried for him."

Sif laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently, smiling lightly.

"You should have seen him, Thor," She said wistfully, "When he came to find us. I don't think I'd been so happy in a long time. He is himself once more; you need not fear losing him."

"There are other things to be lost to, Sif," Thor said, looking up at her tiredly.

"And Loki is too clever for them all," She said, squeezing his shoulder again. Thor reached up and grasped her hand with his, smiling at her.

"Thank you, my friend," He said, his chest puffing out proudly, "Loki is the cleverest in all the Nine Realms. Your words comfort me. You are right."

With a triumphant smile Sif sits back, withdrawing her hand. Thor breathes easier, truly assured by the house's assessment and his friend's words. It hurt, knowing how easily things could suddenly change; witnessing it first hand. When he had been banished to Midgard, he had been appalled when his friends came, speaking of his brother's lies and the Destroyer came for him. He had be wracked with guilt over what he could have done to wrong Loki. When he returned to Asgard and was faced with that-

That person who wore his brother's face.

He was devastated, torn to pieces when his brother let go of Gungnir. Was he truly so lost? Was it all truly so terrible? He resented their father for a time, after that. Of all the things in the world to say at that exact moment he chose:

"_No, Loki."_

And he fell.

Then, suddenly, after months of grieving and feeling so empty that it physically _hurt_, Loki was caught in Heimdall's gaze. Of all the emotions that had crashed over him, the one that roiled to the surface most upon seeing Loki was _anger_. Perhaps it was not even anger at Loki. Perhaps it was anger at how far the Norns had deigned to tear them apart. Perhaps it was anger at the All-Father. Perhaps it was anger at himself; knowing that when his brother had needed him most he was _gone_, by his own stupidity. Banished to a place where he could not help Loki in his hour of gravest need. But, it was anger nonetheless, and the first words to his brother were vicious and callous. Their father had sent him to collect the Tesseract, and Loki _if he could_. But, it was Loki who was his only priority, yet he had snapped at him angrily, demanding where the Tesseract was.

Loki had lied and Thor had known easily. Lie after lie fell from his lips, and Thor felt all the life sucked from him again at every one.

Finally, he had him back, and still he was empty, for he had not truly returned, had he? Loki spoke not a word to him; a shell of a man, beaten and broken. He ached for the sound of his voice, and never had he more missed the kind and gentle and bright Jane Foster who had such a way of comforting him that he did not fully understand. Then everything, so easily, and so wonderfully slipped into place, even though the world was crashing around them.

It wasn't Loki.

All the guilty shame at his brother's actions was gone. All the burden of his brother's madness was gone. Everything was right. His brother was himself, because he had never become that mad, terrible creature that besieged the world he had grown so fond of. Everything was well in the world and that creeping sensation that always told him when Loki was lying was-

Buried. And, somewhere, deep in his heart, he knew it, and cast his eyes from it.

* * *

There were few things in the world that could shock Pepper Potts. She could walk into an office demolished by her boss without flinching. She could look one of Tony's one night stands in the eye and throw them out without blinking. She could watch Tony fly a nuclear missile into a portal to another realm with pain and throat-closing terror, but absolutely no shock. A grand total of four things, actually, had ever shocked her since she began working for a man named Tony Stark. The first thing was that the caravan escorting Tony had been attacked and that Tony was missing, not even a body to be found – and thank God or the gods or _whoever_, for that.

She wasn't shocked when he came home; she _knew_ he would.

The second was that Tony had decided that it was a good idea to start being a superhero. The third was that Tony was dying. 'Was', thankfully, being to operative word. The fourth thing that could shock her was a man, whom she thought to be dead, walking out of the elevator and starting up a conversation like nothing was wrong. After these four things, she was entirely certain that there was nothing more in the world that could ever shock her again. So, when she found herself walking into Stark Tower close to evening, after her brief sojourn to Beijing for a conference, greeted warmly by the receptionist and all the other employees, who were just leaving at the end of a long day, that she passed, she was certainly not expecting to find one more thing that shocked her that day.

She waited patiently for the private elevator that allowed only herself, Tony, and the Avengers in, by JARVIS' scan. Upon its arrival she stepped in, JARVIS welcoming her back and informing her that Tony was in his private lab. She pressed the button for the bottom floor, at that, mentally musing, again, over why Tony wanted his lab at the exact opposite point in this building to where he lived, several stories underground. The elevator was quick and soon enough she was stepping out again and met by overly loud, overly outdated music. She glanced through the glass briefly, but Tony was not in easy sight, then came to the door, punching in her code; not bothering with the music. When she entered, her phone buzzed in her pocket and, with a sigh, she pulled it out and looked down at it as she moved toward the back of the lab, deftly avoiding all manner of fallen things on the ground. She read the email quickly, and, with a roll of her eyes at the unimportance of it, began penning a response. She was nothing if not prompt, no matter how important or unimportant the call.

Over the music she suddenly heard a voice. It was dulled by the loud music and she could hardly make out the words, but her assumption that he was attempting to address her was squashed when another voice responded, followed by another. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her half finished email was forgotten as she looked up and her jaw dropped.

There was someone other than Tony Stark in Tony Stark's lab. This wasn't just R&D. This wasn't the place where Tony and Bruce would work and trade banter together, yet there stood Dr. Banner, with his arms crossed over his chest and looking down at Tony who was on his knees in front of some machine, tinkering with something under a hatch on its side. She had expected that this might happen at some point; that Bruce Banner would be invited into the private sanctuary that was Tony's lab. It was clear that Bruce had been slowly, but surely, approaching the kind of friendship with Tony that she herself is proud to have. This was not entirely what shocked her. This was a pleasant development, but not an unanticipated one.

No, what shocked her was the third party.

"JARVIS, music," She commanded, and the room went silent. Tony turned around and his eyes fell on her. A grin spread across his face that had the expected amount of grease smudged over it.

"Hey, Pepper," Tony greeted simply, standing up with a short hop and wiping his hands on a rag, "How was Japan?"

"China," Pepper corrected off-handed, and Tony seemed to follow the path of her eyes back to the third person standing around the machine who was looking at her with a smile that she did _not_ like.

"Oh," Tony said, looking back at her, "You've met Loki, right?"

Yes. Yes, she had. She had been met at the airport by several SHIELD agents as she clutched her phone in her hands, with its missed call, panic gripping her in a way that she was still uncomfortable thinking about. She had regained the ability to breathe as she was informed that the situation was under control and that Tony, from what they last heard, was alright. She demanded immediately to be taken to Stark Tower, and when she was refused she demanded to speak to Nick Fury, after which is the point that she is told that she got _scary_ and they gave her a full escort to the building. She arrived at the tower at the same time as Nick Fury, who, after giving her an approving nod, led her into the building.

She had JARVIS restart the reactor and asked where Tony was, to which she received an answer she was _not_ happy with; he didn't know. His contact with the suit was cut and he was nowhere in the building. They were then informed that Loki was incarcerated on the top floor and Fury had called for the elevator. So they rode in tense silence, and she was the first to step off as they reached the top floor. The room was a terrible mess, as if the Hulk had rampaged through there, which, she learned later, he had. Next to the small steps was a figure lying on the ground, looking rather relaxed for the position he was in, and a hammer on his chest. Curiously, there was a shot glass of whiskey sitting on the floor just out of his reach. He curtly told them that the Avengers had gone for shawarma, and then not another word.

She had downed the whiskey and kicked him in the side for good measure. That had been when he started laughing, and she left, disturbed, just as it turned hysterical.

"We've met," Loki says smoothly, with that smile that she doesn't like, jolting her back to the present.

"Well, meet Loki-who-doesn't-want-to-kill-us," Tony said, waving a hand toward the god, shutting the hatch on the side of the machine, "Give it a jolt, reindeer games."

Loki tutted, and put a hand on the machine. A jolt of something bright and green shot from his hand to the machine and suddenly a few panels on it lit up and it began to whir quietly. Nearby screens began to emit small noises as information appeared on them.

"I'm disappointed, Mr. Stark," Loki said with a disapproving expression that was slightly put off by the small smile turning the corner of his lips, "Using the same joke twice."

Pepper jumped as Tony tossed a wrench at Loki's head who sidestepped it deftly.

Loki seemed oddly satisfied, and not angry, by that, and Pepper was at a loss of what to do. That didn't happen. Pepper dealt with Tony Stark on a daily basis for the last eight years; she can deal with _any_ situation. Suddenly the machine sitting between them all sparked and the screens around them turned blank and there was a collective groan between Bruce and Tony and a pursing of lips from Loki. It was all very, very _wrong_, but somehow it looked so terribly _normal_. Loki looked far less intimidating, and far more human, than he had, even when he was raving mad and pinned to the ground by Mjöllnir, several months ago; with his hair slightly disheveled, a smudge of grease on his forehead, and his regal leather jacket tossed over the nearby chair with its bright golden shoulder guard, leaving him in a sleeveless leather-lined, green tunic. The boots, in fact, looked rather out of place, embellished as they were with gold plate shin guards.

He looked disturbingly like he belonged in this lab as he tapped away at one of the now blank computers, sending lines of text across the screen, and Pepper found herself utterly floored and unable to speak; shocked out of her wits for the fifth time in her life.

"Nice to see you, Pepper," Bruce said with a reassuring smile that didn't really help much, "Come on, guys. The collective IQ in this room has to be somewhere over five-hundred; we can figure this out."

"As flattering as that is," Loki said, rolling his eyes, "None of us are experts on this particular branch of science. I am not an expert on _any_ branch of your science. I received a three hour - how did you say? - 'crash course' on several different types of physics. We need someone who knows this kind of thing inside and out. We're trying to detect portals on a global scale."

"Richards?" Tony offered with a shrug, peeling open the hatch again, "Ego up to _here_. There's a giant '4' on the top of their building. It's an eyesore. And, where were _they_ when we were saving the world from Rudolf over here? _California_."

"That sounds absolutely nothing like anyone we know," Bruce deadpanned.

"What?" Tony says, looking up over the machine with a raised brow, "_I'm_ awesome."

"As amusing as this is," Loki cut in, making a face, "I was thinking more along the lines of Miss Foster."

"_Foster_?" Tony asks, incredulously, "Why would _you_ want _her_ here? You _hate_ her."

"I never said such-"

"As I interpreted your tone and sneer, you do," Tony interrupted.

"Fine," Loki huffed, throwing up his arms in exasperation, "We shall stay here attempting and failing to work through astrophysics on the side of _worm-holes_ without the help of an expert astrophysicist who, oh, just so _happens_ to specialize in _worm-holes_. By all means, keep tinkering with that; do not get the one woman who can help us and I know for a fact that my brother misses terribly-"

"I'm disappointed, Loki. Sarcasm is the refuge of a weak mind," Tony sniggered.

"_Do_ shut up, Anthony."

"Well, if you're gonna make me feel _guilty_ about it," Tony conceded dramatically, "No need to see Thor walking around here all sad and puppy eyed. Pepper."

The woman snapped to attention, torn away from watching the strangest version of what is no doubt some TV show, somewhere; and if it isn't, it _should_ be, and she'd watch it with Phil.

"Call Fury, tell him to get Jane Foster out here, stat," Tony said.

Immensely grateful for something to do that may possibly keep her sane, Pepper looked back at her phone, closing out of the email and opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

"JARVIS, music."

The music began blaring loudly and Pepper held back a flinch and swallowed her halfhearted irritation, and perhaps, maybe affection, toward Tony, and spoke loudly over it. (Projecting; not yelling. There's a difference.)

"Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That'll be all, Miss Potts," Tony said with a grin as he slid his goggles over his eyes and began pulling apart the machine, "Glad to have you back. Missed you."

Eyes ghosting over the strangest thing she'd seen in years, she turned sharply and retreated from the room, heels clicking against the floor, deciding that nothing will ever top that, and she will never be shocked again so long as she lives.

And knowing that, _somehow_, she will.

* * *

"Should we change tactics, my Lord?"

A dark laugh echoed across the cosmos and The Other held back a shudder.

"That would ruin the challenge of it."

"They know when we intended to strike," The Other implored, only to be interrupted.

"When we still shall strike," Thanos replied sharply, "We are here to _impress_, after all. It would be cowardice if we backed down now."

"With all due respect," The Other tried again, "It is Chitauri lives at stake."

"I need not your respect," Thanos boomed, "Only your obedience. We will raze Midgard to the ground, be they prepared or not, and She will marvel at the destruction I bring, with my _own_ power. The rest of the Nine Realms shall swiftly follow, and I will have revenge and I will have _Her_!"

The Other bowed deeply, fear slithering up his spine.

"Of course, Lord Thanos."

* * *

A/N: And, there it is. Please, pretty please with sugar on top, tell me what you think; even if you hated it. I might cry a little, but the truth is best. ...But, making a girl cry is just mean. Truth is definitely best, though. *glares*

On a side note, I like the word 'cleverer'; have you noticed that? I think I've used it at least once in every chapter.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Oh look, I'm still here! I promise you plot in the next chapter, for now, more feels. I'm iffy on this one; so please, I need feedback.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk or Avengers.**

* * *

Conviction

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

It had been a long time since Loki had opportunity for such endeavors. Granted, he'd never exactly expanded into the mixture of Midgardian science with magic. He had contemplated the merits of it at a previous time; much of the mortals' sciences are promising, but become dangerous, due to lack of control over certain things. Magic provides that control; stabilization and precision. The energies that magic calls upon, that Asgard, and many other realms have relied upon for thousands of years, could be very useful when used with the mortals' technology. Of course, where there are benefits, there are also risks.

There were certain things that did not react well to Yggdrasil's Heartbeat.

"You aren't touching it."

"I thought that you wished to explore the mixture of my magic and your science."

"Hands. Off. The reactor."

Loki's brow twitched with annoyance as he faced off against Tony Stark's impressive glare. Dr. Banner had called it quits almost an hour ago now, leaving Tony and Loki in the lab to argue. After the conclusion had been reached that they should wait for Jane Foster's arrival to work with the detector, the three had dived into the uses of magic in tandem with science. Bruce had gotten to a point where he was too tired to stand straight, at which time he retired. Tony Stark, however, seemed to have no limits to energy when it came to working on something that interested him. Of course, the caffeine likely helped, Loki thought wryly, looking at the mug on the table beside Tony, three times emptied.

"You're being entirely unreasonable, Mr. Stark," Loki implored, "The Tesseract is an imitation of Yggdrasil, though rough, at best; the energies are vaguely similar. I simply wish to know the effects of Yggdrasil's energies on it versus the effects of the Tesseract. Just a few spells-"

"You mean lack of effects," Tony said, unblinkingly, "It's a waste of time. You can do whatever tests you want on some of my old reactors-"

"But, they're not the same," Loki said, furrowing his brow and crossing his arms over his chest, "You ought to know. The elements at the cores are different from the one currently in your chest. As you saw just a few hours ago, my magic rather agrees well with Palladium."

Tony gave him a long, suspicious look.

"How did you know that this one was different?" He asked, tapping the reactor glowing through his thin black top.

"Because the core is a triangle and the rest are circles," Loki said rolling his eyes. When Tony opened his mouth to reply, taking him seriously, the _idiot_, he cut him off, exasperated, "Because they _feel_ different, Stark."

Tony paused for a moment, opening and closing his mouth three times before finding words.

"Whatever, Hippie," He said, finally, "You're not touching it. Kind of need it. Something goes wrong..."

Loki pursed his lips, irritated. This wasn't going to be easy, at all. A distasteful idea pops into his head, just then, and he mulls over it for a moment, debating whether or not it was worth it, then decides that: yes, it was.

"_Please_," Loki forced the word out, "Haven't you ever been so curious about something that you wont be satisfied until you know every last facet of it? The Tesseract's power should have passed through any cloth, leather, or metal to get to your heart, but that thing _stopped_ it. And, it practically seeps into your body! I would very much like to try several spells on _you_ as a whole, as well-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Tony said, holding up a hand, voice rising slightly with anger, "I'm not a guinea pig, and this _thing_ isn't a toy. It's the thing keeping me _alive_. Something goes wrong and I _die_. Does this _not_ concern you?"

Loki stopped himself before he spoke further, noticing Stark's growing frustration and anger. That had certainly not been his intention, nor would he wish the man to die, as he just insinuated. Looking closer, Loki saw not just annoyance, however; there was a hint of fear and a good deal of protectiveness. Loki sighed and stepped away, putting up his hands slightly in a sign of surrender.

"I did not mean to upset you," He said, and noticed Tony's body loosen and relax just a little, "I apologize. I will persist no longer."

"S'fine," Tony mumbled, turning away and beginning to clear off the table he stood at.

Loki cocked his head slightly and observed. It was a nervous gesture, Loki realized, having hours ago taken stock of the general disorder in Tony's lab. He didn't put things away. The topic of conversation had greatly unsettled the mortal, clearly. Loki furrows a brow, curious. The device in Tony Stark's chest was a peculiar thing. The hum of energy that flowed from it was like nothing else he'd seen on Midgard. The other reactors were different. They ran effectively and smoothly, but not quite as... harmonious? Yes, that describes it rather well. The way the Tesseract's power had just... fizzled out when in contact with it was fascinating, perhaps why he had pointlessly tried a second time. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing that his musings had turned back to his interest in the reactor, rather than the worries of the man that it was attached to.

It kept him alive, apparently, and powered the suits. Loki felt something distinctly magnetic from it, which was curious, but there are certain places that one should not tread, and, seeing Tony's reaction to his wishing to conduct experiments on it, the device in his chest was one of them.

Oh, dear, when did Mind fall into his hand? He was sure he'd left it in a nice little pocket of space next to his staff and the Casket. He glanced at the glinting stone momentarily, then to Stark, who stood with his back to him, still busying himself mindlessly. How simple it would be-

With a scowl of disgust he willed the Gem from his hand and back into the pocket of space. He would not defile the man's mind as such; the thought never should have crossed his mind. The Mind Gem's ability to access any person's thoughts is not one that he particularly likes. As surely as the thought disgusts him, it is a terrible temptation; to know all the secrets of anyone he targeted. But, it was wrong, Loki told himself firmly. Tony seems to stiffen, now that the table is clear; seeming to have noticed Loki's eyes on him. He turns around to face him sharply with a disarming smile.

"So," He said, gesturing with his hands meaninglessly, "I've got it in my head to take your word for it on the wanting to help us thing, which might be stupid and I might regret it later, but.. details," He waved a hand nonchalantly with a brief, flippant expression, "But, here's the thing: you have to tell Thor the truth."

"No," Loki immediately, sharply responded, "No; absolutely not."

"Hah," Tony laughed once without humor, "See, that's funny; 'cause, this is my house, which means: my rules."

"Has it occurred to you that this may be none of your business?" Loki snapped, advancing threateningly (defensively, some part of his mind supplied), "It is a personal matter that has no bearing on the current situation."

"I happen to like Thor," Tony replied, still nonchalant, "Guy's got a mean swing, you know? And he's got these puppy eyes that a fifteen-hundred year old god has no right to have. On that note; you know you have these crazy dimples, right? Not fair. There are plenty of nice, sane mortals who deserve those dimples more than you. I lost my train of thought," He paused for a moment, putting a hand to his temple and Loki raised a brow at his rantings. Tony snapped his fingers suddenly, speaking up again, "Right: Thor. Deserves to know the truth."

Loki hesitated before responding; and, when he did, it was quiet and with a deep sigh.

"He does," Loki said, and Tony looks about to _actually_ applaud himself, so he squashes that desire as quickly as possible, "But, he deserves, even more, to be happy. He is happier with this. Leave it alone, Stark."

Something like understanding seemed to settle in Tony's eyes and Loki knew that he'd won before he even spoke. Tony scrubbed a hand through his hair, face twisting into a slight grimace for a second.

"Fine," He conceded, in an exasperated breath, "Fine. Do what you want."

"I always do," Loki said with a smile that was only a touch mischievous.

"I'm sure," Tony deadpanned, "I'm calling it a night. Foster should be here tomorrow, if Fury's really getting her. I'll... see you in the morning."

Loki grabbed his jacket and vanishes with a short flash of light, smiling slightly as he vaguely hears Stark curse.

* * *

The obnoxious buzzing beside her ear jerked Jane from sleep. Grabbing at the phone, she sluggishly moved her head to the side and places the device by her ear, pressing the button to answer. She was used to being called at odd hours of the night, being on the other side of the country from Erik. He had finally been allowed to share his research on he Tesseract on things pertaining to her research on the Bifröst and wormholes in general. Though he still seemed to be in whatever secret, deep, dark SHIELD facility he had been dragged down into, and hadn't come personally; thus the late night calls. She was surprised when a different voice entirely drifts over the line.

"Miss Foster?"

"Agent Coulson," Jane greeted in surprise, "Is Erik alright?"

"Dr. Selvig is fine," Coulson replied, "That's not why I called. We need you in New York."

"New York?" Jane asked incredulously, bolting upright, "Why do you need me to be in New York?"

"I'm sorry," Coulson said, and she can almost see the thin lipped smile, "Not us; Tony Stark needs you in New York."

Jane was momentarily breathless. Tony Stark. CEO of Stark Industries. Genius engineer that had made Arc Reactor technology a viable source of clean energy. The guy who made and _is_ Iron Man. And he wanted _her_.

That... that sounded way worse in her head than it was supposed to.

"Why?" Jane found herself asking.

"I am afraid that I don't know," Coulson said with just the barest hint of something that tells of his frustration, "You're going to need all of your research and equipment. We're ready when you are."

"You're-" Jane cut herself off of her puzzled question, throwing the covers off of her and running to the window. Sure enough, on the street below, there stood Coulson, looking up at her with a smile, phone held to his ear. Several black vans were parked around him, with SHIELD agents standing by next to them.

"I thought you would appreciate if we asked, first, this time, before we started taking your stuff," Coulson said and then she's left with the dial tone.

Jane is dressed and hurrying down the stairs in record time, feeling grimy and wanting a shower, but a little too giddy to care overmuch. _Tony Stark_. She set foot in her makeshift lab and quickly moved to the door, unlocking and opening it wide. SHIELD agents began pouring in immediately, picking up this and that from around the lab. Coulson steps up beside her and she gives him an appraising look.

"I have a lot of equipment," She says wryly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"We have a lot of vans," the agent replies with a smile.

"Do I get to bring my intern?" Jane asked. Darcy had been more friend than intern ever since the Thor fiasco, and she would hate to leave her behind.

"I'm afraid Miss Lewis might have to sit this one out," Coulson said, giving her a pointed look, "Stark Tower has become quite the full house, lately."

The disappointment was momentary, because it was flooded over suddenly by another emotion as she realized what he might mean by that. She sucked in a sharp breath and forced herself to not get her hopes up.

"Thor?" She asked hesitantly.

Coulson gave her a smile and a nod and she breathed a shrill laugh. She slapped her hands over her mouth at the sound, surprised that it had come from her mouth. She grinned broadly underneath her hands, and can't help another small squeak.

In all her years pursuing Astrophysics, she had never allowed herself something that made her feel as stupid and childish as her affection for Thor did. She'd known him for all of two days, but let herself become utterly fascinated. Maybe it was because he had come from far across space through an Einstein-Rosin bridge which she just so happened to be trying to prove existed and could be created, or maybe it was far stupider than that in the fact that, as Darcy put it, he was pretty cut. After contemplating it for a long while she had settled on genuine affection. He drew you in and had this utterly sweet demeanor that she hadn't seen nearly enough of.

She knew that it was ridiculous; but she allowed it to herself, just this once. For the Prince of Asgard.

"Are you sure Darcy can't come?" Jane asked, because now she kind of needed her there, with her.

"I'll see what I can do," Coulson said with a tight expression, "There are a few other things that you need to be made aware of when we are on the plane."

"Top secret, you're going to drag me down to a deep dark hole in the ground if I tell kind of other things?" Jane asked, with a little trepidation.

Coulson only smiled, and Jane thought for a moment if she was really going to let the opportunity to see Thor and work with Tony Stark override the common sense that was currently telling her to bail now while she still could.

Of course, she was.

* * *

The sky was dark, and Loki's body and mind ache for sleep, but it would not come. He knows the futility of trying, so he sat cross-legged on the end of his bed, with his eyes closed softly, breathing evenly. He could pretend that he's back in the garden, like this. It is almost real enough that he feels, instinctively, that the peace must surely be interrupted sometime soon by-

"Brother."

It's a terrible thing to be right, Loki briefly lamented. He opened his eyes and tilted his head toward Thor, ignoring the short pang of guilt at the sight. It was for the best, after all. Thor was looking at him with an expression that is sad but hopeful and expectant, so Loki lets himself smile lightly.

"Hello, brother," He said, and Thor smiles a smaller smile than his usual.

"You cannot sleep?" He asked, walking closer, strangely tentative, "Have you eaten anything, today?"

His worry was nothing but endearing, and Loki shook his head lightly, seeing no reason to lie. He'd not had an appetite since they had left Asgard. He would be fine for weeks without, so it was of little concern. It would not be the first time he had forsaken food for an extended time. If he were immersed deeply in the practicing of a certain spell, he would shut himself away in his room, without sleep or sustenance, no matter how their mother had pleaded, for days on end.

"You know how I may be, sometimes," Loki said, and he can pretend that everything is alright, just as surely as Thor believes it to be, and it is comforting, "I think too much."

"You think just enough," Thor said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, smiling affectionately, "You would not be Loki, were you any other way. We've not had a true chance to speak since leaving Asgard."

Brief panic shot through Loki, but he brushed it away. Talking is harmless, he assured himself. He is not the Liesmith without reason; he wove his tales well.

"I suppose not," Loki conceded, "Things have been... rather busy, haven't they?"

Thor smiled brightly, and knocked his shoulder into Loki's playfully, and Loki gave him a teasing glare in response.

"_You_ have been busy," Thor laughed, "I have been blundering around rather uselessly. I am beginning to understand the shadow."

Oh, and he was doing _so_ well. The bitterness was sharp and vicious, as if punishing him for ignoring it these past days. Thor only spoke thoughtlessly, Loki knew. It is something that may never change, and Loki could accept that. It hurts, though, and probably always would. Loki jerked back slightly as he suddenly felt a tug at his hair. He looked at Thor in confusion, as his brother's hand fell from his hair, and the elder had a gentle, sad smile on his face.

"You look so much older with your hair so long," Thor said with a breathy laugh, "'Tis strange to see my little brother seeming so grown."

Loki held back a flinch. This was... this was not right. This was quiet. This was subdued and sad and wrong. Thor was supposed to be happy; that was the point, wasn't it? Everything is supposed to be alright now. The circumstances may not be ideal, but he has what he wanted, doesn't he? He should be boisterous and loud and obnoxiously happy not... this!

This was not what he wanted.

Something cold settled in Loki's stomach. Did Thor know the truth? Did Stark tell him? He was under the impression that Stark intended to keep out of such business so long as their goals coincide; did he misunderstand? No. No, Thor would be far angrier than this. Thor, angry, is not a quiet thing. This... this was sadness and Loki was at a loss. Had he done something wrong? Loki searched his memories. True, he'd been long in the lab with Anthony and Banner, but surely Thor was not so displeased over that. Panicked, Loki forced a bright smile, words leaping to his aid.

"You are no prize yourself, these days!" Loki said, pulling at Thor's own long, blonde locks. Thor's smile brightens and his eyes glint happily, and Loki feels relief flood him, "You put on a good half millennium, at least, with your hair looking so ridiculous!"

Thor's mouth dropped open, taking on an offended look as he ran his hands through his hair.

"It looks noble!" Thor insisted hotly.

"Here on Midgard," Loki said, leaning close with a devilish grin, "Such a look would be termed as... ah, _unsavory_."

Thor's face turned a bright red, and Loki mentally applauded himself for his ability to change the mood of the conversation so sharply.

"I rather like my hair, just as it is," Thor said, poking Loki in the chest, and narrowing his eyes.

"I am sure you do," Loki said and then made a grand show of yawning, "Now, if you don't mind; I am exhausted. We may continue to debate the ridiculousness of your hair in the morning, if we must."

Thor flashed a bright, happy smile, and Loki found himself able to breath easier. His brother placed a hand on the back of his neck and squeezes lightly.

"Goodnight, brother," He said before standing and walking from the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

Loki's shoulders slumped and his face came to rest in his palms. How tiring. Come tomorrow, he will be busy working in the lab, again, and when out of the lab, Thor will be occupied with Foster, Loki reassured himself. Both circumstances, of course, dependent upon the prompt arrival of the woman. Loki's eyes flickered to the door, and, on a whim, he tugged himself away from the plane with a short bit of magic, reappearing in the bathroom just across the hall. Overkill, perhaps, when he could have simply stood and walked. His reflection stared tiredly back at him from the mirror as he looked into it.

He did look older. He might have called it striking, on a better day; a fine, regal visage staring back at him. That day, however, he could only see the sad creature who had been plucked from the tempest of the broken Bifröst, torn from his welcome fate, by the hands that now held the fate of the Nine Realms. He remembered, deeply, sickeningly, how his hatred grew. Loki's head began to throb and he brought a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly. It had been so easy.

_Thor is the reason you're here; your **bane**._

Thanos' voice had been his only company in that dark void. Suddenly and suffocatingly, it was all back. Loki opened his eyes and all he saw was the void of space and he gasped in sharp breaths searching around frantically, but he already knew what was coming. Sharp and fresh, the pain began, so familiar. He remembered it, and the porcelain sink that he couldn't see, but knew was there under his hands (_had_ to remember was there), cracked. He bit back a cry as pain seared across his head and that dark laugh echoed all around him.

_He is the reason for all your suffering._

Loki tried to right himself, tried to see what he knew was in front of him. The bathroom, the mirror.

_A monster. No home. No family. Just a monster, waiting to come out._

He called upon his magic, but even then, he knew that there was nothing to fight. His own mind turned against him; thoughts and memories and all those sick, _sick_ feelings (_his_ feelings). It burned, and where was he? Norns, where was he? Why did it still hurt? Why hasn't anyone come for him? Why was he still alone? _Where was Thor?_

_Let it out. Let it all out._

No one came. No one _ever_ came.

"Sir?"

Brightly and mercilessly, light flooded his eyes, momentarily blinding him. When his vision cleared, he was staring at himself again; breathing heavily, eyes red, appearance haggard.

"Sir?" JARVIS repeated, "Do you require medical assistance?"

"No," Loki managed, lowering his head and trying to even out his breathing, "No. I am alright. Everything is alright."

"Sir, if your heart continues at such an elevated rate, I am programmed to alert Dr. Banner," The AI said, almost hesitantly, and Loki was suddenly aware of the pounding in his ears.

With a deep breath, Loki stood straight, looking back into the mirror. Sick and angry, he snarled viciously at the image. Quicker than his mind could follow, he summoned a dagger to his hand, and grabbing at his hair, he slices it at the nape of his neck. He conjured fire to his hand and the room was filled with the smell of burnt hair as ash fell to the floor.

All was silent. JARVIS said not another word. Loki glared balefully at himself in the mirror, darkly pleased to see the ragged, unevenly cut hair fallen, unbound or slicked, around his face; not the monster, but not quite the Æsir, either. With a shaky breath, he runs a hand through his shortened hair, drawing it back in a rough imitation of his old style. His heart had calmed, and the feeling of panic faded. Drawing on his magic, he was in his bed in the next breath, where he knew he'd get not a second of sleep.

He was _not_ alright. _Nothing_ was alright. Perhaps it may never be so again.

* * *

It's when his head begins to take on a dull throb with the remnants of liquid courage that Tony realized that some time ago it turned from night into morning. He turned his eyes from the blank ceiling of his room to the cityscape outside his window, with a low sigh. Temporary insanity. That has to be it. There is no other way that he may have gotten it in his head to confront Loki, rather than go immediately to the 'I should probably tell Thor'. But, he knows that it wasn't insanity. It wasn't even the whiskey he'd downed just beforehand for luck.

It was because Tony thinks he understands.

He's been in that place. He could figure it out. He could fix it. He didn't need any help. He would face this head on, and he would _not_ be afraid. Tony knows what it is to feel the need to face something alone; to protect everyone else from the truth. Because, the truth hurts, and he didn't want to hurt anyone. And all he'd ended up doing was hurting them more.

The fact of the matter was that Loki had completely lost it. He'd fallen into some deep dark pit that he couldn't pull himself out of, and he ranted and raved and screamed and cried. He'd gone mad with... anger, grief, confusion? Tony didn't really have the details, but, people don't just go insane one day for no reason at all. And he knows crazy, too. Loki wasn't just a dick that wanted to rule the world; that was pure crazy. Tony knew how things can fester, and how things can grow, and how things can knock the wind completely out of you. And, Tony knew, painfully, how easily he could have been just like Loki.

He could have come out of that cave with a vengeance. He could have gotten angry. He could have let the horrors of those three months rule him (and, maybe they kind of do, in a different way). He could have let Obadiah's betrayal irrevocably damage him. And, don't get him wrong; it hurt. It hurt like all hell, because Obie was more of a mentor and friend and father than Howard Stark had ever been. He could have come away from it all not becoming the hero, but something far, far worse.

In the wake of Loki's defeat almost four months ago, now, he had thought a lot about that cave and about Obadiah, and about how differently everything could have gone. It had taken all of one moment to send the memories crashing over him with a terrible vengeance. They say that a person's eyes are a window to their soul, and Tony can't help but agree, if not debate a little on the subject of the existence of a soul. He'd looked Loki dead in the eyes for a fraction of a second and he knew what he saw. Even as he yelled for JARVIS and crashed through that window there was an ache in his chest because he saw it all. He didn't see triumph, he didn't see arrogance, and he didn't see anger. He saw desperation, he saw panic, he saw pain, and heartbreak and _fear, _though maybe a little preoccupied to really, really process it. And, he knew all of these things intimately, and when they see Thor off to Asgard with his brother and the Tesseract, he sees them all again (sadder, more subdued; all in a brief flick of the eyes), and it left him almost sick and infinitely grateful for Pepper and Yinsen, because where would he be without them?

Right there.

Well, without Yinsen, he might just be dead in a cave.

He'd built a family up around him, out of the Avengers, and it made it better and he could push it back to the deep recesses of his mind and forget for a while. Forgetting is simpler. It is so much easier. But, forgetting isn't allowed, and Thor and _Loki_ and their merry band of men (and one woman whose armor is far less revealing and far more functional than movies and shows and comics would lead him to expect) show up and throw him through the wringer again.

So, he thought, maybe, he can understand. Loki had fallen so much father than he had, and picked himself up, with maybe a little help from a persistent brother, and now he stood back where he stood once before, with a second chance, and where Tony once stood, too, where he could fall either way and whichever way he fell might possibly determine the fate of a planet or the entire universe. And, Tony needed to _know_. He needed to know what had to be done to protect the people he loved. He needed to know if he had to go with it or suit up.

He needed to know which way Loki wanted to go; needed to know how to push him the right way. Loki is terrified, and still reeling from being dragged out of that deep, dark pit and into the bright light, and he's defensive, and he didn't want to screw it up; he knows because he'd been there, too. He didn't want to hurt anymore than he already does, and he didn't want to hurt Thor any more than he already has. He was pretending that it can all be alright, if only Thor believes that it is, just like Tony pretended that it could be alright, if only Pepper thought it was. But, he'd screwed it up, and Loki was going to screw it up, too, because you can't keep these terrible things from the people you love. At least he kind of hoped he was seeing all the right things and making all the right assumptions; and can you really judge a god by your own standards? Tony wanted to force the truth out there, tell Thor himself, but he knows that if there is any way for it to go well, it has to come from Loki's mouth.

Tony wondered if they can handle the fallout when it happens.

And, then, he remembered Natasha standing there in the doorway, and he remembered that she had asked a question and was still there, waiting patiently for an answer. He tilted his head toward her and he was momentarily struck by how she was asking him, of all people; how she was looking to him for some kind of confirmation, or assurance. Maybe, she was just so keen on following orders that she needed someone to tell her what to do, and she was kind of lost without it, but, no, she was too smart for that. Which left only that she values his opinion, and takes it seriously, and he remembered why Loki deigned for him to learn the truth in the first place, knowledge imparted to him briefly on the elevator ride down to the lab.

"He's got blood on his hands," Tony finally said, and he saw a flash in her eyes that might be something like irritation, but also something close to understanding, so he finished with a shrug, "He wants to wash it off. A second chance."

Without a word, she nodded, and swept from the room.

This house was inhabited by people on their second chance; what was one more?

"Mr. Stark," JARVIS suddenly said, "I thought it prudent to tell you that Loki seems to be having an anxiety attack of some sort. His heart rate has elevated to roughly two hundred beats per minute, his pupils are dilated, and he is hyperventilating. He is not responding to me, sir. Your programming demands that I wait a few moments to inform Dr. Banner, but, since the subject is not you, I thought you would wish to know. Override programming and summon Dr. Banner?"

"Gods get panic attacks?" Tony asked incredulously.

"It would appear so, sir-" JARVIS paused for a moment, "His heart rate is falling, and he is responsive now. He is beginning to breathe evenly, again."

"He's okay?" Tony asked, standing.

"He claims to be fine, though-" JARVIS said, then paused and continued in a surprised, and curious tone, "He's just... cut his hair and burned it. Incinerated it, actually."

"Yeah," Tony said, heading for the door, "He's not okay."

He remembered that. He didn't get them often, but from time to time... things caught up. Pepper had freaked out the first time he'd woken up in the middle of he night with her there, gripped by an anxiety attack brought on by a nightmare. After she left, she put in a command for JARVIS to alert Bruce if it happened; which he protested, but eventually conceded to with the condition that he be allowed time to try and calm himself down before Bruce was brought into the picture. He'd not had many recently, and not when he had company, thankfully.

When he reached Loki's door, he immediately went to open it, only to find it locked. With a quick command to JARVIS, the door clicked open and he pushed it in slowly. It didn't creak, for which he was grateful, and Tony took in the sight of the room. Loki laid on the bed with his back to him, straight and perfectly still, clearly not asleep.

"Doors get locked for a reason, Stark," Loki said.

"I'm bad at respecting boundaries," Tony quipped, walking fully into the room.

"Evidently," Loki said with a sigh and sits up.

He turned to face Tony, and, in the darkness, Tony could really appreciate just how much those eyes _gleam_. It ought to be eerie, but instead it was oddly transfixing. Tony could see little else in the dark, but it was clear how Loki's hair was shorter and unruly; barely past his chin in length and sticking out in all directions, though there was some small semblance of its usual pristine look in the way it is roughly swept back. It made him look... smaller, he decided as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Younger.

"New look?" Tony asked, because he honestly didn't know what to say and Loki was beginning to look angry.

"Old one," Loki bit out, "What do you want?"

"Yeah, you've probably tried them all, actually," Tony continued, ignoring his question, stepping up to the side of the bed, "You're, what? Fifteen-hundred years old? Rough estimate, based on the records of Norse Mythology. Probably more."

"I lost track; I assume you are correct," Loki snapped, "What. Do. You. Want?"

"Did you really give birth to a horse?"

Loki's face turns from anger to shock in a second and then turns an unmistakeable shade of red.

"Oh," Tony said, jaw dropping, "_Oh_, God. You did, didn't you?"

Loki actually sputtered for a moment before regaining the ability to speak.

"There were... _extenuating_ circumstances - Freyja - Odin - It was one of those 'You'll fix his or I'll have your head' occasions. I had no other choice-" He struggled over his phrasing and his hands twisted in the sheets; eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at Tony.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the story. Which one hurts more, childbirth or being kicked in the balls?"

It was then that Loki stared at him in shock for a moment before doubling over, laughing loudly, and Tony congratulated himself on a job well done.

"I was a _horse_, Anthony," Loki said through the laughter, "It is hardly comparable."

"Well, damn," Tony said with a grin, "Age old question right there."

"Age old answer," Loki said with an amused glint in his eyes, "Insinuate the latter and you are sleeping alone that night."

"She didn't make me sleep on the couch, but she did withhold sex for, like, a _week,_" Tony said, and before he could get lost lamenting about Pepper and his failed first attempt at a real, stable relationship, he goes on, "Feel better?"

Loki sat back straight, looking up at Tony thoughtfully. He nodded with a sliver of a smile still playing at his lips.

"Good," Tony replied and turns to leave. He felt a cold hand wrap around his wrist and he turns back, looking down, a little startled, at the skin to skin contact. It was a little strange, if he thought about it. He was currently making physical contact with someone who was somewhere between a thousand and two thousand years old, who had been worshiped as a god (and in some odd little places, _still was_), and made crazy shit happen with a flick of his wrist. It was... strange. It was more real, tangible like this. Flesh and blood, sitting on that bed, was a god. A god with _serious_ issues.

"Thank you," Loki said, looking at his hand holding Tony's wrist as well, and Tony wondered if it's as odd for Loki, touching a mortal.

On a whim, Tony pulled his arm away just enough to bring their hands together and he squeezed slightly, before letting go. Loki looked at his hand for a moment, then lets out a breathy little laugh.

"Odd, isn't it?" He said, voicing Tony's thoughts, not looking up, "How _real_ things are made with touch?"

"That's three you owe me," Tony said, pushing away from the subject, and the bed, "Think of something nice. I'm easy, trust me."

Loki looked up with an amused and predatory look, and it's definitely not the reason Tony takes a nervous step back or that a shiver runs up his spine.

"I shall endeavor not to disappoint," Loki purred, smiling lazily.

Tony didn't think he could have left that room faster with that laugh following him out.

* * *

A/N: Meh. Review, please. Oh and look! I drew things~

cherry-top . deviantart # / d52u9wx

cherry-top . deviantart # / d52qb4v

cherry-top . deviantart # / d52pxki

Remove spaces.

-Siva


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Holy mother of long chapter.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers.**

* * *

Conviction

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

She didn't break up with him.

Those words never actually left anyone's mouth. 'I'm breaking up with you'. 'I'm leaving you' never came into play either, because she didn't; she was just with him in a different capacity. And, that was okay. No, the end of their relationship was when he walked into the kitchen one morning to find her sitting on the other side of the counter in a crisp, black business suit and skirt and slid her application for PA across the marble. So, it was never said. Pepper Potts didn't break up with Tony Stark.

The tabloids seemed to think so, though.

And, it kind of hurt when he thought about it.

But, she didn't break up with him.

It was an entirely mutual shifting of the interaction between them. Entirely. That kind of hurt somewhere in the region around his arc reactor when he thought about it too hard. The transition was smooth and simple, as if nothing had even happened. Everything was back to the way it had been; Pepper was his PA and he was CEO, but everyone knew which one went to most of the meetings and which one to call if they needed either of them to do anything about anything. Tony was actually paying a lot more attention to his company nowadays, though; more than he may have made it seem like, and that was fine. But still, it was almost easy to go back to treating each other the way they always had and when he tactlessly pointed that out to Pepper one day she said:

"Exactly."

He tried not to think about it much. The point is that there's a reason that the other side of his bed is cold this morning, and a reason that Tony spends an overt amount of time staring at its emptiness with half-lidded eyes and thinking about things that he shouldn't think about. Like how waking up alone was a lot harder after almost a year of waking to Pepper, no matter how 'alone' he really was, which was rarely. After a couple weeks of wallowing, the parade of women that visited his bed began anew with a vengeance. It subsided quite a bit after he realized that there was absolutely no satisfaction and only bitterness when he heard the tightness in Pepper's voice after such occasions.

"How long was I out, JARVIS?" Tony asked, rubbing at his eyes and forcing his thoughts away from memories.

"Three hours and twenty-seven minutes, sir," JARVIS replied, dryly, "A new record."

"What did I tell you about getting cute?"

"Apologies, sir; I am merely the product of my programming. It is currently five twenty-two in the morning; Miss Potts has asked that I remind you of the board meeting today at ten."

"I'm busy; Iron Man stuff and Norse Gods and all that. Make Pepper go," Tony groaned out, sliding out from under the covers.

"I will make the request. Agent Coulson has left a message that what you requested is currently en-route. This was less than an hour ago."

Tony paused at that. In the shit-storm that was yesterday (and the night before) a lot of things had gotten a little garbled. It took him a second to connect JARVIS' comment to Jane Foster. Astrophysicist that Thor took a shine to when he was here in exile-

_With his brother trying to kill him and vaporizing a small town in New Mexico in the process._

Tony shook his head of the thoughts. Second chance. Tabula rasa. All that jazz. It was surprisingly easy to settle into the thought of that. Maybe the slight late-night mental breakdown had helped, and the guy was _smart_. Loki had some anger issues that the god didn't seem to be too proud of, and a lot of shit in his head that was conspiring against him to the point of breaking. He could empathize with both. Of course, he knew, first hand, that lying doesn't help. He'd been breaking down piece by piece, and managed the bright idea of not telling anyone; of alienating Pepper and Rhodie, and anyone who might-

No... no, those were the only two who had cared about him. Except Happy, in his own way, and he lost him in the divorce, too. So, yes, alienating everyone who cared about him. Decidedly unhelpful.

Tony belatedly realized, as he padded down the hall in search of coffee, that he had a train of thought at some point before he went off on that tangent.

"ETA?" Tony asked as he stepped into the empty kitchen and reveling in the smell of freshly brewed coffee, "You are a god among AIs JARVIS."

"Within the hour," JARVIS said, and then, rather smugly (he did _not_ program that tone, no matter what the computer said), "I try, sir."

"How fare our resident deities?"

"Thor Odinson is snoring, loudly, and Loki Odinson appears to be sleeping soundly, undisturbed since your visit," JARVIS said, as Tony filled a mug of coffee to the brim, "Hogun, Volstagg and Fandral all are also still sleeping, and Sif is currently headed in this direction."

"Oh, goodie," Tony mumbled into his cup, "Xena, the bodyguard. What's she goddess of anyway?"

"Earth, sir."

"Neat."

Though, it was good to know that Loki seemed to be resting without incident. He gave himself another mental pat on the back for that. He's such a good person. Of course, this brings thoughts back to Loki's parting words and that mocking laugh. It sent an odd little shiver down his spine and made him curl a little more in on his coffee mug. That last comment was _definitely_ meant to be suggestive; probably just to unnerve him. Probably.

Sif walks into the kitchen, then, just as he snorts lightly into his coffee.

"Fine morning to you," Sif said with a nod.

Tony looks up at her and is momentarily taken aback. Clearly in the time since they arrived and he'd been either spying on Loki, talking to Loki, or in the lab, someone had outfitted the newest residents of Stark Tower with normal clothes (Huh, the other people in this building function when he isn't there, too). He had almost expected her to walk in wearing full battle regalia like she'd been wearing when they arrived, and had been half dressed in during the morning-of-strange-happenings-and-Fury. Her hair was actually really long, too, falling a foot or so past her shoulders straight. Tony almost laughed when he saw the Cap t-shirt.

"And, good morning to you," Tony said amiably, flashing his most charming grin.

In response, Sif gave him a dry smile that let him know exactly what she thought of his charm, and, despite himself, Tony was rather impressed, and reminded of two other women with the ability to scare the shit out of him at times.

"So, tell me, Sir Stark," Sif said as she sat at the counter delicately, folding her hands together on the marble, "How might we assist in preparing for the Eternal One's war?"

"Patience, for now," Tony said with a shrug, "We've got Jane Foster coming in to help figure a way to pinpoint a portal opened by the Tesseract the exact moment it happens, so we can respond as quickly as we can to the attack. I'm going to get in touch with Richards and make sure his people are prepped for a fight, and Xavier... something tells me we're going to need the support. And coordination. And luck. Fury's going to have to see about how and when we go public with this, and if we're getting the military involved; bullets kill those things, or at least Natasha didn't have an issue with it. A lot to do. Not enough time."

Sif frowned, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her hands together.

"Perhaps I will spend the day in your 'gym', then, that Lady Natasha showed us," She said tightly, "Keep prepared."

"Don't want to stick around and meet the astrophysicist that has captured the fair princess' heart?" Tony quipped, and was surprised when Sif shot him a tired glare.

"I would rather not," She said shortly and stood.

"Oh, I see," Tony said, realizing, "Ex-girlfriend."

"What?" Sif asked sharply, eyes narrowing with displeasure.

"Or never girlfriend," Tony said, raising a brow with a twitch of his lips.

"I have no idea what you are on about, Sir Stark," Sif sniffed, grabbing at an apple in a basket on the counter (How very Pepper, she must have set that out some time last night).

"Call me Tony, please."

"I'd really rather not."

"Anthony."

Tony and Sif's heads snapped toward the door at the drawling voice to see Loki leaning casually on the frame, fixing them with an amused look. He really likes his leather. A good deal less metal in the current getup, though, and no long coat of evil stylishness. His hair was slicked back without a strand out of place, though the ends were slightly uneven and curled up a little, perhaps to hide that fact (less menacing looking, somehow, at its current length), and his eyes were bright as they turned to Tony. Loki's lips curled up devilishly.

"It would behoove you to stop antagonizing Thor's... dear friend," He said, eyes dancing with mirth as they flicked briefly to Sif, who reddened angrily, and Tony couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.

"Friend-zoned," He quipped.

"Oh, _good_," Sif hissed darkly, eyes flicking from Loki to Tony and back, "There's _two_ of you now. I – Did you cut your hair?"

"Yes, would you like me to fix yours as well?" Loki asked, with an innocent expression.

She shot him a withering glare, that may have looked half affectionate, with a telling quirk of the lips, and stomped out of the kitchen rather quickly, after that. What a shame; he was really just getting started. Tony fixed a grin at Loki, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. He seemed... lighter than he had the night before, and it was almost nice to see. Loki's eyes met his and Tony could tell that it was a mutual shifting of targets from combined against Sif to each other.

"Two of you?" Tony asked with a quirk of the brow and twitch of his lips, "I don't know if I should be insulted or flattered. Of course, she doesn't know-"

"Flattered, to be sure, Anthony," Loki interrupted, straight faced.

"Will you quit it with the Anthony thing?" Tony asked with a roll of his eyes, "It's Tony, or, hey; I'm even fine with Stark."

"I prefer Anthony," Loki replied, eyes narrowing upon him for a second as his smile turned salacious, "I like the way it feels on my tongue."

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but when no words quite leaped at him he snapped it back shut. He took a measured sip of his coffee, eyes darting _away_ from Loki, as he gathered his wits. Well, that's a... a nice shiver there. Very familiar. Very unnerving. That's the second time he's done that now. Tony kind of wished he had a better base of 'What is Loki'. He could probably ask Thor, but he could imagine how that conversation might go.

"Hey, you know your brother is kind of weirdly sexual? No? Just to me? Okay, then."

And then Tony Stark dies by magic hammer, the end. Let it be noted that in this circumstance it is only he, Tony Stark, who is graced by Loki's remarks because, hey, Tony Stark.

"Yeah, well I don't like the sound of it in my ears," Tony griped, glancing back at Loki.

"Such a shame, _Anthony_," Loki said, dragging out the name slowly and thoughtfully, "I'm rather _fond_ of it."

Oh... _well_, then. _God_, this coffee is good. And _brown_. Dark, dark brown and _pretty_. Like Tony's eyes. Very brown. And, very good, and he should just... stare at it for a few minutes. He could probably snap out something about how Howard had called him Anthony, and the sound of it grated on his nerves in a terrible way, and Loki would probably get it and back off, and never call him that again (Or, you know, be a dick and be even worse about it. Still not clear on the 'What is Loki'). Except, that's really not something he cares to bring up. And this coffee is just awesome.

"You know what?" Tony said, keeping his eyes down, swallowing thickly as he noticed how very dry his throat had suddenly become, and waving a hand with an expression of nonchalance, "You make it work."

Loki smirked evilly at him and flicked his wrist. Tony held down a jump as the coffee machine groaned to life from behind him. Loki walked fully into the room, expression radiating smugness, a clear winner of this round if Tony ever did see one. Tony's eyes narrowed as he pulled another long sip of his coffee. Two can play at that game, buddy; you want to do dirty? Tony Stark is the _god_ of fucking dirty. Pun. Intended.

"Well, then-" Loki began, but then silenced himself immediately with a furrowed brow. His eyes darted up for a second before settling back on Tony in bemusement

"Why is Barton in the ceiling?"

_Thump_.

"_Son_ of a-"

* * *

The Destroyer's remains laid broken on the floor of the Vault, the pedestal that once held the Casket of Ancient Winters crumbled beneath it and the wall shattered behind it. Tendrils of magic tumbled from beyond the bright white light, dissipating into the air. Odin did not need to venture out of Asgard and to the home of the Norns beneath Yggdrasil to know that the Tesseract would be gone from its place of protection. With a heavy heart the old king turned his gaze upon Heimdall, who was slumped against the wall, looking blearily at him, unfocused eyes seeing everything and nothing and, for the first time in many a millennium, being dazed by it all.

"I am ashamed, my King," Heimdall rasped, "I have failed you."

Odin turned his eyes away with a slow shake of the head. No one was immune to the terrible pull of the Soul Gem, not without the help of very dark, very powerful soul binding magics, which very few knew of and fewer still could perform. Asgard's eyes were turned against them, but thankfully not all was lost. Something beyond the wall beckoned to him and Odin knew that someone had interfered. Odin stepped forward over the broken Destroyer, and into the light that poured from beyond the wall. He walked, eyes wide open and staring into the brightness, until, if he turned around, he might hardly see Asgard any longer. The whiteness bled into color and nothing shifted into shapes as he continued. A world formed around him in moments and a voice penetrated the stillness.

"Your fondness of keeping relics will be the undoing of the Universe."

Odin's face remained passive as before him golden steps led up. He stopped at the bottom of them, eyes not looking up.

"A relic steals another relic, and nearly ends one of those Realms that you are sworn to protect," the voice continued, "Yet before then, another relic is lost, the jewel of your treasure room, to cause trouble for neigh on a hundred years among the mortal children of Midgard, who were ill-prepared for such power. Had your lesson not been learned, Son of Bor?"

"The Infinity Gems remain safe?" Odin questioned, solemnly.

"As safe as they may be," the voice mused, "You know of Soul, possessed by the Titan who courts Death. You know also of Mind, held by your pet Jötunn."

Odin's jaw clenched, but otherwise he did not rise to the jibe. He'd not known that Loki had Mind, and did not intend to dwell on it or the derisive reference to him. Freyr had been keeping things from him, then. The King of Elves had given word of his sons' passage through his Realm, and Odin had breathed a sigh of relief. Though, this brought him immediately to the edge of the Rainbow Bridge to demand answers of his gatekeeper, only to then sense a disturbance in the Vault after finding Heimdall not at his post.

"Your gatekeeper's eyes are his undoing," the voice continued, "Thanos had only to allow himself to be seen and Soul captured him easily."

"The other Gems," Odin pressed.

"Scattered," the voice said, "No longer your concern. Guarded - by more competent hands than yours."

Metal clattered against metal, ringing sharply as it echoed down the steps. The Infinity Gauntlet came to rest at Odin's feet with a clang against his armor, devoid of its glittering gems.

"Have you become too old to hold up your sacred charge?" the being mocked, "Too weary to protect the Nine Realms?"

"Yes," Odin replied, and there was a slight shift at the top of the steps; surprise. Odin continued, "I leave it to younger warriors. I will protect Asgard to my end, but the Nine are in finer hands, now."

"Your _sons_," the voice concluded.

"Do not underestimate them," Odin said.

"I do not," the voice said, with a sharp laugh, "You do."

Odin looked up sharply, nearly blinded by the light reflected by the hulking golden figure.

"What do you mean?" He demanded.

"Your sons are noble, and powerful," the voice said, "And, the elder... no, you do not underestimate him, though he still has much growing to do. It is the younger that you do not see."

"What of Loki?" Odin asked.

"There are cracks in his mind," the voice drawled, "Ones that cannot be fixed, no matter how he tries. He fell, Son of Bor. He fell... for a long time. Too long. There are horrors within him now that he will never be free of, and will war for control over him. You have no idea what he is capable of, now."

Odin could not say when he began to shake, nor would he admit that he ever did.

"Good," the voice mocked, "You fear. You should."

"He is my son," Odin rasped.

"Oh, All-Father," the voice chuckled darkly, "He is your _equal_. He need only control it. The cracks, the horrors. He need only make them _his_, and he will become something even the Mad Titan will fear. He is _you_, for all your powers, with a capacity for malice that you do not comprehend. He is you with the resolve and just enough madness to kill an entire race of people. Your people play at being gods, but there are very few that may truly be deserving of the title. You were one of them. He has the potential to be another."

Odin shook his head, smiling lightly as he stood proudly, and assuredly.

"You do underestimate him," Odin declared, "You underestimate his heart. I do not fear my son. I never will. He may be my equal in power. He may one day be greater, but I will feel only pride on that day."

The creature was silent and Odin bowed shortly before turning.

"Thank you, for intervening to protect the Infinity Gems," Odin said as he walked away, "But do not presume to tell me how to handle my family."

"It was always him," The voice called after, "Do not foolishly hold to hope of otherwise. This heart of his that you boast is _broken_."

"I know," Odin replied sadly, without stopping or turning back, "I was the one who broke it. But, it is still _there, _and I believe in it."

"And, if your _beliefs_ bring you naught?"

"Then I will deal with it."

* * *

Tony had the right of it, Loki mused darkly, when he assumed that he hated Jane Foster. It was her warping of his brother that compounded his madness and his anger. Thor, sitting down on pathetic little Midgard with this pathetic little woman and her pathetic little words, while his whole world fell apart. His selfish desires (This is _mine_. It _can_ be mine. It _should_ be mine. Just like _you always lied _that it could be.) coupled with the burgeoning hatred of Thor for his absence and ignorance had led him further and further away from sanity until he truly did hate his brother, truly wished him dead. His brother returning, unrecognizable with his sympathies for that race of monsters and a fondness for humans that he had once (always, repeatedly, derisively) mocked Loki for. All in _two_ days. Two days in which Loki fell and fell and fell, even before his true physical fall into the abyss, and no one was there to catch him.

Loki's lips twitched downward into a scowl as he forced his thoughts away. What was this, now? Did he need constant distraction, or might he actually eventually muster strength enough to keep such poisonous thoughts away? He has accepted Thor for all his love, and deigned to look more intently at the fortune in his life rather than the folly, should these feeling not cease? With a low sigh, Loki shifted uncomfortably on the couch, setting aside the now lukewarm mug of coffee. He much preferred tea, anyway. He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the eyes burrowing into his skull from the opposite couch. The little bird was not happy to be discovered in his nest. Tony was awfully surprised to find the series of tunnels in the ceiling.

"Those were _not_ there four months ago."

JARVIS, of course, knew, but saw no immediate threat, and was actually programmed to allow the Avengers to mostly do whatever they wished, and _neglected_ to inform his creator. Tony was 'taking care of it'. The machine was almost too clever and... _human_ to not be sentient, and Loki was briefly considering if, perhaps, he _was_. An interesting thought, as the computer was surely not created as such or with that intention in mind. Very curious, and another way in which mortals are fascinating. Their sources of energy were far below that of many other Realms, most especially Asgard, but their utilization of it was almost similar, and certainly impressive for all its limitations. Loki could use the World's Energies to create artificial life (Certainly not a perfect or predictable field of magic, but he was working on it), and Whisps surely has some... personality when conjured. Illusions might be compared to current research of holographs, and use of deceptive light reflection. Healing to medical practices. Asgard was far beyond, and had an immensely more mold-able resource, of course.

Of course, there were certain areas in which Asgard lacked and Midgard excelled as well. Though, in context, it was immaterial. Asgard has no need of such... rush. Everything on Midgard is made for saving time. Time. Time. Time. How exhausting it was to always be thinking about time. It was almost a shame, Loki thought, that in time, the men and woman of this little team of heroes would wither. It was always a shame, but not enough to interrupt its flow. And Loki is familiar with thinking about time, more so than perhaps any other of Asgard. How long until the gray in John's hair overcomes the rich blonde? How long, and can he bear to stay to the bittersweet end?

How long now until Jane Foster begins to truly age? Will Thor still be captivated by her, and longing for her comfort? Will he fight for her, as Loki once fought for his? Will he be denied as Loki once was? Loki didn't think his brother would take it as gracefully as he once had. He understood the meaning of immortality far better than his brother; some are not meant for it, including the vast majority of humans. Wisdom comes from experience, not age; experience that is not garnered through the repetitive warring and reveling of the Æsir that Thor partook of. Loki's doctor (and his curious, curious friend) and writer and artist, though deeply loved, were not meant for the longevity of his people, and this is something he grew to understand (or perhaps it was _their_ contentment with their lot that kept him from trying harder, because they deserved everything that he could give them, for all the affection and care they heaped upon him like none in Asgard ever would, and if that thing was death, then so be it). It is something Thor does not, and perhaps will not be able to ever understand.

But, regardless of the woman's mortality, and her ever approaching fate, she had had an unmistakeable impact on Thor that had thrown Loki off so badly that he was still reeling. Thor cared for her, or at least the comfort that she provided him, and would be happy to see her. Overjoyed, in fact, Loki thinks. And, he would freely admit that her help is necessary, as the only astrophysicist with a firm grasp on the workings of inter-realm portals like the Bifröst and Tesseract and reality both. Selvig would be surely just as knowledgeable, though the man already seemed half-mad even before the Tesseract took hold on his mind, and Jane Foster served two purposes. Their work and keeping Thor happy and... far less likely to poke and prod at him.

And, she was due to arrive in less than ten minutes. Loki had dragged Thor out of bed and into the shower, not long ago, bleary-eyed and semi-conscious, coherent enough only to say:

"Hu-fl-wha?"

Thor was far from a morning person, and Loki had gleefully shoved him into the shower, vanished his clothes, and turned on the tap, relishing in his brother's surprised yelp. It was so comforting to have moments like that, where everything really was well and good. Thor ought to be stumbling out of the elevator soon, hopefully dressed in something acceptable, though a small part of him hoped he walked into the room in something entirely _un_acceptable, to compound the look of shock that will no doubt be on his face at the sight of Jane Foster into a priceless start to what will no doubt be a very trying day (If by small, one might mean the vast majority of him).

"She doesn't know... what?"

Loki looked up in surprise at Barton, who was eying him strangely across the room.

"Stark," Clint continued, "He said 'she doesn't know-' and you cut him off. Lets ignore your weird-ass flirting for a second. She doesn't know what?"

Loki doesn't even think for a second, words tumbling from his lips with practiced ease. Sometimes there is no process whatsoever for his lies. Sometimes they leave his mouth before he even realized that they were thought up. He wove seamlessly from truth to lie without thought, on many occasions, falsities produced from silver tongue and watching faces for hint of suspicion and reveling in his skill.

"It is not known on Asgard that I am not a blood son of Odin," Loki said. Truth and lie, interwoven, "Something that came up in conversation previously. Stark was merely taunting that she would not mean flattery by comparing us if she knew such."

The Hawk gave him a long glare, which Loki bore steadily.

"Right," Clint said, "Adopted."

That really shouldn't hurt so much.

As if on queue the elevator doors slid open and Loki tilted his head to get a look. Thor, still seemed in a daze as he stepped out, eyes finding his brother immediately. The god straightened with a playful grin and Loki smiled lightly in response, taking note of Thor's ensemble of jeans and gray shirt. Thor's smiles were warm and filled Loki with a sense of happiness at the sight of them at the same time that they also poke him with the red hot iron of guilt. He'd clearly figured out the shower (Not a terribly complex thing, and not dissimilar to their own methods), and his hair was still wet. Thor was standing just behind him in moments hand immediately finding its way to his hair. With a scowl, Loki swatted Thor's hand away, giving his most petulant expression.

"Thor!" He half-whined.

"You cut your hair!" Thor said with a grin as he walked around the couch to sit beside him, "You look much more yourself!"

"I thought to lead by example," Loki said, pointing to Thor's own dripping locks. With a short twist of his wrist Thor's hair was dry and his brother ran his hand through it with a smile, "Are you sure you do not wish to-"

"My hair is fine as it is!" Thor insisted with a short pout.

"Sirs, the package has arrived," JARVIS' voice cut through the air.

"Ah," Loki said, and stood, taking Thor's arm and leading him to the elevator, "Come, brother. JARVIS, is Anthony on his way down?"

"He is in the elevator already, sir," JARVIS replied, then went on dryly, "I am afraid, Mr. Barton, that the ceiling has been made off limits and all entrances are now sealed."

Clint made an interesting face, but otherwise didn't respond to that. Instead he looked at Loki, and asked:

"What package?"

At the same time that Thor, confusedly walking alongside him, says:

"What is this package of which the ceiling speaks?"

"You'll see," Loki responded with a smile that was equal parts sad and joyful, "You'll see."

Loki realized, then, that this may be the most selfish thing he had ever done. Though Jane would make Thor happy, Loki knew that he was setting his brother up for heartache.

* * *

The door was held open for her and she stepped out tentatively, looking up at the tall building with wonder. Coulson came up beside her and gestured forward with a hand toward the entrance. Car doors were slamming shut all along the curb, as agents piled out, carrying reinforced boxes of her equipment. Jane took a deep breath before stepping forward toward the marble steps leading up to the glass doors. Coulson fell into step at her right, and another, taller, figure appeared at her left. She glanced over just as he introduced himself without looking back at her.

"Director Fury, of SHIELD," The man said, "It's good to finally meet you in person, Miss Foster. I expect you've been filled in?"

Jane was immediately filled with trepidation. She'd been filled in, all right. Steeling herself, she nodded resolutely. So, Thor wasn't the only one back from Asgard. She can deal with that. And, hey! Everything's fine, right? Thor's brother isn't actually a psychopath. All good. Except, she really, kind of, doesn't believe that for a second. She wants to. She really does, but at the same time it was all far too _personal_ to be the design of someone else. Maybe she's just being paranoid; she'd never even seen nor met the man (Which she is rather thankful for, actually), and didn't even have much to go on. After all, make no judgments where you have no sympathies, isn't that right? As she walked into the building, flanked by Agent Coulson and Director Fury there was a figure walking toward them and her mind blanked, to be replaced by sheer giddiness.

She quickened her steps considerably, leaving Fury and Coulson in the dust as she strode forward, reaching a hand out.

"It's an _honor_ to meet you," Jane gushed, as Tony Stark took her hand and shook it briefly with a charming smile, "I can't imagine what _you_ might need _me_ for, but I will do my best."

"Your expertise is exactly what we need, actually," Tony said with a wink, "And Thor did look a little like a kicked puppy when he couldn't see you the last time he was here."

Jane felt a flutter in her chest. There had been a brief time in which she had thought that Thor had forgotten her; a sad part of her that kept reminding her that she was just... human, and he was something considerably _more_. Tony looked over her shoulder then and nodded, grin tightening just a bit.

"Nick," He said shortly in greeting.

"Well, Mr. Stark," Fury said, walking up to them, "I brought you your astrophysicist, now I expect to be told why."

"We know when, and we know how, but we do not know where," A low, accented voice drawled from the other end of the room, "She's going to help on that point."

Jane looked up, past Tony, who turned slightly with a strangely wicked expression on his face to look in the same direction. She didn't know what exactly she was expecting. Maybe a little more flash and a little more bang, or at least a little more gold and coldness. But, it wasn't what she saw. What she saw was was a very young looking man with perfectly kept straight black hair slicked back from an angular and striking face and wide, brightly colored eyes. He was dressed in leather and cloth of green and black and of strange design, but not as otherworldly looking as Thor in his armor and cape-

-Who drew her attention, standing beside the man, that she had no doubt in her mind was Loki, in a faded gray t-shirt and blue jeans, looking at her with wonder.

"Brother, I-" Thor began, eyes not leaving Jane as he stepped forward tentatively.

"Surprise," Loki said in a gentle tone that held a sad edge to it, that made Jane chase away all previous reservations about him.

"Lady Jane," Thor breathed as a smile spread across his face. Jane couldn't help the skip in her breath as she smiled brightly in response. Words were spoken around them, between the Director, Tony Stark, and Thor's brother, but none were heard as she was swept up in a warm embrace. With a breathy laugh she wrapped her arms around Thor's strong shoulders, heart lifted.

"I am sorry that it took so long for me to come back to you, Jane Foster," Thor said, as he pulled back and put a hand to her cheek which she leaned into almost involuntarily. He turned, with an arm falling over her shoulder, toward his brother.

"Brother, I thank you, deeply," Thor said and Jane saw how Loki's eyes softened when they turned from Tony and Fury to his brother.

Jane smiled at Loki, whose soft eyes then turned from Thor to her. It was a split-second thing, bright green flicked to her and back to Thor, soft and affectionate upon his brother. But, she saw it all the same. In that fraction of a second that his eyes were upon her, they turned troubled and sad and something else that she couldn't quite place, but struck her deeply. It made her stomach flip-flop, seeing clearly, the deep _age_ within those eyes, and their silent judgment.

And, even under Thor's warm arm, she suddenly felt unbearably cold.

"Hate to break up the party," Tony said clapping his hands together sharply, "But there's work to be done. JARVIS, is Bruce up?"

"No, sir," Jane looked around in wonder as a voice from seemingly everywhere replied; JARVIS, her mind supplied, the ingeniously designed AI that ran Tony Stark's... _everything_, "Shall I wake him?"

"Gently, my good man," Tony said with a grin as he walked past Jane and Thor and slinging an arm up to perch his elbow on Loki's considerably higher shoulder, to Jane's surprise. The god merely looked down at him with a raised brow, "All that stuff goes down in the lab, but none of you are allowed in, so leave it at the door and be on your way."

"We still have-" Fury began, eyes darting between Stark and Loki.

"And we will," Tony interrupted, "Full team meeting. Things to discuss. Got a nice big conference room right in here and everything. It's where my business is run out of, you know."

Tony dropped his arm to his side and with a mocking two-fingered salute he turned on his heel, followed swiftly by Loki. Thor squeezed Jane's arm reassuringly, smiling down at her.

"You will like my brother, I think," He said, so hopefully that it was almost childlike and Jane felt her heart melt to it, "And Doctor Banner and the Man of Iron."

Jane leaned into him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"I think so, too," She said with an unconvincing smile, but that was alright because Thor couldn't see her face from this angle.

* * *

Things began to move very quickly. Suitably distracted by work, Loki had been able to cast away any sick feelings that were dragged up without so much as a flinch. Anthony proved distracting as well, always quick with a joke, and mind ever calculating in their task. A fascinating individual, to be sure, and much too fun to rile up. Loki was as relaxed as he could possibly be around Jane, though she was always throwing him odd little glances, and kept all words between them strictly business. She proved distracting to Thor, as well, which kept his own interaction with his brother on his own terms. The odd jibe here and there to produce a smile or an affectionate scowl that Loki found himself craving, but otherwise he was left alone and in the lab anyway. Jane Foster would fix him with an analyzing look, which he responded to with a slow smile that served to turn her gaze away.

He realized that she may be a little more than he had given her credit for.

The lab was a bustle of activity, between the four of them. New equipment was set up around the room, and a machine hummed lowly in the middle of it all. After days of work they finally had something ready for testing. Foster was confident in it working and Loki found that he had to agree with her optimism. They'd worked tirelessly; forgoing a healthy amount of sleep and sustenance, though Loki took measures to ensure that Jane would find her way out of the lab regularly, and Thor would not worry.

At nights he did not sleep, though, truthfully, perhaps he _could_ not. Anthony showed him much leniency and trust, but he was protective of his lab and thus when weariness would finally claim each of the scientists, Loki would retire to his room and meditate. It was not restful, but it helped him organize his thoughts and in his mind he would tentatively poke at the dark corners that leaked foul feelings. Other times he would sit and stare into them, or become frustrated and attack them; though only in his mind. He would not allow the weakness that gripped him just a few nights ago that Anthony helped calm him from. He meditated upon Thanos' power that had seized him that morning of his not-so-fortuitous venture, becoming familiar with its grip, and forcing away the fear that it struck deep within him.

Sif was tentatively kind to him, the usual bite of her words fallen to teasing. The Warriors Three were friendly when he was around, but he avoided contact with most of the people in the tower. He expected Barton to be difficult, but the Widow seemed to have him well in line. He received relative respect from Dr. Banner, and he gave the same in kind. And, no, he did not flinch that one time that Tony electrocuted Banner and he snapped at the man with tiredness and anger. Steve Rogers was another thing entirely. It was almost as if the man went out of his way to be nice. It was almost irritating. He seemed to have a firm grasp of when he was not wanted, though, and would leave Loki to drink his morning tea in peace after an annoyed glance.

Anthony, Loki thinks almost fondly, was not so kind. He constantly pestered him; in the morning, in the lab, in the lounge, while waiting for JARVIS to assemble some things. It was nonstop. No matter how viciously he glared or scathingly he insulted, the man would simply not leave him be.

Thor thought it was funny.

There were many times that Tony would get brazen, speaking too close to the truth while there were others around that Loki feared he had worn out his confidence. The mortal took issue with his untruthfulness; almost personal issue. Loki would interrupt or shoot him a look clearly frightening enough to change the subject. Or he would turn to what seemed to work best of all to unsettle the man; blatant flirting. It was only better when Tony decided to give as good as he got. Loki felt no guilt whatsoever for his intent to unnerve and off balance the man, despite the help he had given.

"Teams AS-A through AS-CC in position and standing by," A crackled voice of a SHIELD agent came through the open com, startling Loki from his thoughts.

"That's all teams in position now, Stark," Nick Fury's voice said next, "On you."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Tony said dramatically, and Loki couldn't help rolling his eyes, "Start your engines. And, by that, I mean: don't do anything and don't touch anything while I activate your devices remotely."

"_Stark_," Fury growled.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your eye-patch on," Tony said, "JARVIS! Let there be light."

There was a beat of silence, as Loki shook his head over Tony's showmanship.

"All devices on and responding, sir, congratulations," JARVIS replied.

"Not a success quite yet, JARVIS," Loki tutted, walking over to the main hub of their system.

"We have to test it, first," Bruce said, removing his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. His weariness was clear in the bags under his eyes.

"Your move, Rudolf," Tony said, "You sure you got this?"

Loki threw a confident smirk in his direction and with a tug at his magic, he vanished from the room. When he reappeared, he was met with the sight of a magnificent fjord. Not wasting any time, he sat quickly, cross-legged, and summoned his staff. He took a deep breath and _pulled_. The lingering energy of the Tesseract in his staff fought back as he grabbed hold of it, wanting to stay as it was, but Loki summoned a swell of energy and tore it away forcefully. With another deep breath he began to mold it. Weaving it with Yggdrasil's own energies, it began to writhe uncomfortably in his grasp, but complied in moments as his will overpowered it. Loki allowed a moment to revel in his command of magic, before, in a burst that burned through him, he threw the energy from himself, molded in an imitation of the Tesseract's unstable force.

He'd been there, nearly a thousand years ago when the thing was created. And he'd traveled through Realms on its power once before. It was a staggering, weakening thing, that left him uneasy and stumbling out of the SHIELD base in somewhat of a daze. He'd been given knowledge of its workings and had felt the crackle in the air as he opened the door for the Chitauri army. He knew its energy well enough, and he had power enough to imitate it using the energy that _it_ was an imitation of.

Loki's eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath, the lingering feeling of energy burning under his skin. His eyes turned up to the sky and a satisfied smile spread across his face as the bright blue energy shot through the air. It flashed behind clouds and dissipated with a loud crack that could be mistaken for thunder. Loki steadied his breath and stood, wavering only slightly, his staff humming in contentment in his hand. With a twist of his wrist he dismissed it into his pocket dimension and straightened his back. He tilted his chin up and gave a tug at the magic still swirling slightly within him.

He was back in the lab in a flash of green light to the sound of an alarm, and Tony's grin.

"Geirangerfjord, Norway. Roughly sixty-two north and seven east," He said, triumphantly, pointing to a holographic globe where there was a red blip in Norway, as the alarm shut off, "Picked up by scanner EU-HH. It worked."

"No," Loki said, straight-faced, "I was in Iceland."

Tony's face fell dramatically.

"I jest," Loki said with a thin smile, "You are right. I was in Norway. It worked."

Tony scowled at him while there was a sigh of relief from Bruce and Jane, the latter of which slumped forward over the table with a half hysterical laugh.

"Not the time for _jokes_, Loki," Fury said tightly, "Good job, people."

"JARVIS, add for the scanners to pick up the idle Gamma, too," Tony said, flicking his hand at the globe, sending it spinning rapidly, in a frivolous gesture.

"Right away, sir," JARVIS responded.

"Wonderful," Tony said, "You can call back your agents Director; the tech's five feet under and if anyone moves them an inch, we'll know-"

Tony was cut off by the alarm sounding out again. He reached out and stopped the globe from spinning, looking over it frantically. There were five red blips.

"What's happening, Stark?" Fury demanded.

"Sir, it appears that there are five mild readings of the Gamma signature given off by the Tesseract," JARVIS said.

"Tony, that one's really close to London," Bruce pointed out, turning the globe until said point was just in front of him.

"And Beijing," Jane pointed to another, worry overcoming her features.

"Rome, Moscow, and... DC," Tony said, walking around the globe.

"What is this, Stark?" Fury asked, voice coming urgently through the com, no doubt as he also looked at his copy of the globe feed, "Can you tell us any more?"

"The machine just picks up the energy and tells us where it is," Tony said, "We'd have to get there and look at it with our own eyes."

"I'll have the nearby agents-"

"With respect, Director," Loki interrupted Fury, "It could be that a handful mortal men may not be equipped to deal with whatever this might be."

"Well, then," Fury replied evenly, "What would you suggest we do?"

"I will investigate," Loki said, "I can conceal myself and perhaps better recognize this for what it is, and deal with the situation if the need arises."

"You're still only one person," Fury said, though it was clear he was considering it, "You would only be able to investigate one of the areas."

Loki was about to correct him, but as he doubted four corporeal shades would be possible after such an exertion of his magic, he remained silent on the subject.

"Pick one, then," Loki said, waving a hand at the globe, even though Fury couldn't see. He glanced at Tony to find the man frowning at him, "And I will start there. If we can find out what this is in one of the areas, we may know what to expect at the others. Strictly reconnaissance: before you send your men into a situation that they cannot handle."

There was a pause, in which Tony shuffled to the other side of his lab, searching through something.

"London," Fury said, finally, "It's the one closest to the city. You have thirty minutes."

"I will leave now," Loki said with a nod and made to teleport away.

"Wait," Tony said, walking back to them with some small device clutched in his hands.

Suddenly Tony was very much in his personal space, hand brushing against the side of his face as he clasped what he was carrying around Loki's ear quickly. Loki jerked back.

"What are you-"

"Hold still!"

Loki, surprised, did so. Keeping still as Tony's hands continued to brush his cheek and ear as he fiddled with the device. Belatedly, Loki noticed his face had begun to flush, and turned his eyes from Tony's far too close and intent expression. Honestly! After the constant teasing and testing of the past few days he shouldn't have such a ridiculous reaction to Tony's closeness.

"There," Tony said, stepping away, though not without throwing him a stupidly smug grin that let Loki know that his coloring had not gone unnoticed, "JARVIS, upload to AC Prototype 1."

Loki blinked in surprise as the device shifted, something settling just at the brow and above his cheekbone at his left eye. A holographic screen appeared between them, and Loki flinched at the brightness of it directly in front of his eye.

"JARVIS, you in?"

"I have been uploaded, sir," JARVIS replied, both in the room and in his ear.

"Lower brightness, seventy percent," Tony said, and Loki blinked away the spots in his eye as the screen became of a more bearable light. The interface in front of his eye was analyzing every detail of the room, and Loki watched with something akin to wonder as the device finished setting up with a flash of 'Welcome, Avenger'.

"What is this?" Loki asked.

"Just something I've been working on," Tony said with a shrug, "JARVIS, display."

A large nearby screen flickered to life and everything Loki was seeing through his left eye appeared there. Tony, predictably, waved at himself.

"A better way to maintain communication and track of everyone in the field," Tony said, "Nothing big. You've got JARVIS with you, and when the rest of them are activated you can access a feed to any of them. You see what they see."

"You truly astound, Anthony," Loki said, sincerely.

"That's a really great idea, Tony," Bruce said, stepping close to get a look. Loki frowned at him and the man maintained a reasonable distance.

"Are you going, or not, Odinson?" Fury growled, and he was reminded of the man's presence.

"Now, I can confidently send you off," Tony said, brushing off the praise, "You sure you got the juice for this? You just put a lot into a pretty big light show. I've never exactly seen your mojo in major action; you gonna be alright on your own out there?"

Loki's face was split with an amused grin as he laughed shortly.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," He said as he pulled himself from the plane.

As he flicked back into existence a short distance from where the scanners detected the Gamma radiation, he immediately reached out with his magic, setting a haze over the area to put anyone who stepped close enough to see him think that he was not truly there. He looked across the line of trees, JARVIS scanning the darkness. There was a redness in the distance, among the copse of trees and the screen flashed with 'Radiation Detected' and then gave a distance that began to decrease as he stepped forward, muffling his steps carefully. As he summoned his staff to his hands, perhaps more for the confidence it brings him than an actual need for the boost of power, Tony's voice breaks the silence.

"Please, tell me someone showed you Star Wars," He said, "Because if you just pulled that line out of your ass, I might actually be scared."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Anthony," Loki replied, at a normal tone; as there was no need to whisper as cloaked as he was.

"Stark," Fury's voice cut in, "Focus."

Loki ignored them, continuing on as the source of the disturbance drew ever closer. Suddenly he was assaulted by the smell of burnt leaves, wood and grass and he scrunched his nose in displeasure. More quickly, but just as quietly he pressed on until the distance in the interface counted down to zero. Tentatively, Loki reached out and pressed a hand to a scored tree, eyes darting across the non-natural clearing, taking note of the burns that slashed across the grass and trees.

"The residue is minimal," JARVIS said in his ear, "It is a credit to the engineering of the scanners that it was picked up at all."

"There was a portal opened here," Loki said, with finality, "Though how long ago, I could not guess."

"JARVIS?" He heard Tony ask.

"Approximately twenty-seven hours since the full presence of the radiation given off by the Tesseract," JARVIS said.

"JARVIS, do have any recording of the Chitauri lifeforms?" Loki asked, kneeling to pick up a charred leaf to turn around in his hand.

"I do, sir.

"Can you scan for them?"

"Yes, sir."

Loki looked up as new information began flying across the screen. Suddenly a multitude of blue lights showed up a fair distance away and Loki held his breath, tightening his grip on his cloaking.

"Multiple Chitauri lifeforms half a mile north by thirty-six degrees east and one mile beneath Earth's surface," JARVIS said.

"Hell," Fury breathed, "Can you get a closer look?"

"Uh, bad idea?" Tony said, "Lots of Chitauri – one Loki."

"I can," Loki said, ignoring Anthony and glad that he had his staff in hand. Teleporting blind was difficult and oftentimes very foolish. Loki focused on one of the lifeforms, checking his cloak again, and then gave the tug on his magic to shift through the plane. Loki twitched in displeasure as he moved through the ground to get to his destination; it was much simpler and more comfortable to know a clear way from point 'A' to point 'B', otherwise a straight line must be taken, despite obstacles. In the next moment he was standing, perfectly still, in the center of a bustling hive of activity.

As Tony swore into his ear Loki quickly weaved his way around the Chitauri, biting back his trepidation and moving into an unoccupied corner.

"A forward team," Fury growled, "I bet my other eye that that's what the other ones are, too."

"Oh, _fuck_," Tony swore, "Two portals just showed up on the scanners. One in Africa and one in South America."

"Two in Asia, and one on every other continent except Australia and Antarctica," Banner said.

"Well _good_ for fucking _Australia _and_ Antarctica_," Tony growled, "Hell. Loki, come back, we need to figure out how we're going to deal with this."

"I can get rid of them," Loki said, suddenly.

"You want to run that by me again?" Fury ground out.

"I can," Loki paused, swallowing thickly and eyes darting around the cavern full of Chitauri, "I can eliminate them all. I should... I should be able to do the same with the rest of them, as well. It's just one big cave, all of them are right here; no more on the scanners. I could just-"

"Loki," Tony said, forcefully, "You're already running low on energy. Whatever you're thinking: no. Thor, Xena, and all your friends will kill me if I got you killed."

"Not magic," Loki said, a chill creeping up his spine as he reaches with his magic into his little pocket of space, "I can. Director. Tell me to and I will."

"Why ask _me_ for permission?" Fury asked skeptically, "This is practically your show."

_Because I don't want to. Because I can, but I don't want to touch that horrible thing ever again. Tell me not to._

Loki licked his now dry lips, pulling in a deep breath.

"Just thought it ought to be run by you. This is _your_ world, isn't it?" Loki said evenly.

There was a long pause.

"You can get rid of all of them?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Tony's voice broke in.

"Yes."

"Without hurting anyone who may be in the surrounding area, or yourself? Or any lingering fallout?"

"Yes."

Another long pause.

"Do it," Fury said.

Loki steeled himself, backing into the end of the cavern so that all the Chitauri were in front him; directly in the line of fire.

Fire, Loki thought wryly, with a snort.

Loki reached for the Casket then, before he lost his conviction and it materialized in his hands. The chill of the relic seeped into his skin just as he himself seeped into the relic. Loki focused deeply on his blood and on the frost climbing his arms and overtaking his face, and on the cold _power_ knotted deep within him. Laufey had frozen over masses of Midgard with the Casket, and that blood ran through him, as revolting as the thought was and as much as everything in him told him to lock away that tight knot of power at his center, he turned around and _pulled_.

The knot came free and a great wash of power rushed over him, consuming him in its intensity. He let out a breath and it chilled the air, frost crept out from him and the moisture in the ground crystallized. Suddenly and immensely _elated_, Loki reveled in the great wave of power, but was aware enough to shield his clothes and Tony's device from the chill. It came over him, flowing through him as if it knew him as intimately as a lover, not biting with its cold, but _wonderful_. As wonderful as it once was to sit out in the gardens, lying in the snow until his mother came after him, ushering him inside with wet eyes and covering him in furs. He directed it and it followed with ease into the Casket where it grew and swelled and bucked until he could contain it no longer. Holding the Casket of Ancient Winters at his chest he set it free. The rush of power swept out of him, and he heard an awed "_Motherfucker_."

The cave was filled with the Chitauri's shrieks as their armor and skin and eyes and bone _froze_ and became brittle. The creatures that hunted him, that would take him back_ there,_ died in agony. Ice caked the cavern and swept over the creatures in waves until the only sound left was that of the Casket. Loki recalled the power, and it came back to him, energizing him and he shook with the elation of this power. Breathing raggedly, one hand slipped from the Casket and it fell to dangle at his side from his other practically boneless arm.

He fell to his knees then, still shuddering slightly, the Casket crashing to the ground next to him. He looked around the room at the frozen creatures and the crystallized cavern, satisfaction filling his every nerve. The elation faded into a sickness that pooled painfully in his gut, and the satisfaction became bitter as a grin he did not know had found its way to his face fell. He dared not look down at his hands or at the reflections that no doubt stared back at him from the smooth frozen surfaces. With resignation, Loki pushed himself to his feet.

_You're a monster._

"Next," He rasped.

There was a beat of silence before a map appeared on the interface along with numbers; longitude and latitude. With one last cursory glance at his work, eyes closing and grip tightening on the Casket which hummed comfort even as he was filled with revulsion at its bite, Loki tore himself from the scene.

* * *

"That's the last of them," Fury said, finally, "Good work."

Tony closed his mind to Loki's ragged breaths and drew a hand over his face. That.

That.

That was a god at work.

Tony vaguely noticed Jane release her tight grip on the table she stood at and Bruce pull off his glasses to wipe at them with his shirt. Tony could hardly reconcile the man who had worked and teased over the past few days with-

That.

And then he was chilled to the bone as he realized that _that_ feared Thanos.

"Sir, I have been short circuited. I cannot locate Loki."

JARVIS' voice broke into his thoughts and Tony leaped to his feet, from the chair he had fallen into after the third Chitauri den was frozen solid.

"How?" He demanded.

"It... it was Loki, sir," JARVIS replied, "His heart rate spiked and he short circuited the AC with the energy you have categorized in my system as 'Magic'."

"Damn it," Tony growled, "Add that same energy to the scanners."

The alarm blared immediately, a red dot showing up on the globe at the northern tip of Norway. Tony swept across the lab in seconds just as Fury spoke.

"Find him, Stark," and the line went dead.

"What should we tell everyone?" Bruce asked as Tony stepped onto a lightly raised platform.

"The truth," Tony said with a nod, "Loki's MIA."

Jane was already tearing for the exit.

"JARVIS, suit me up."

* * *

A/N: Reviews please. Over 10,000 words. I hope they were all good words. Props for guesses on Loki's doctor, writer, and artist. I also turned on Anonymous reviews, because... well, call me call me weird or whatever, but I crave being told that I'm awesome, and I want more reviewers. It's a great boost.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: I'm... not sure how I feel about this chapter. I could have gone two ways. I wrote both and chose this one. I'm not sure if I picked right.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers**

**WARNING: Rating changed to 'M'. Blood and - I can't believe I'm writing this here; I hadn't even started out with that intention but - Self-mutilation.**

* * *

Conviction

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

The wind whipped violently against him as he pressed on into the sky just beginning to lighten with dawn in this part of the world. Coasts became cliffs caked in ice and snow as he glided along them, toward the small dot on his map. He was extremely grateful for the design of the scanners they made. It was a chore getting them to pick up the foreign energy of the Tesseract, but the way they did it allowed them to scan for all sorts of energy as well; so Tony may have taken a few readings of Loki's magic at some point to put into JARVIS' system. He'd been flying for nearly two hours, which meant that Loki had been doing whatever it was he was doing for the same amount of time.

Tony had a couple guesses of what he was going to find.

Loki could be calmly collecting his thoughts and meditating, like he'd caught him doing at night instead of sleeping. He had been drained quite a bit of his magic from the testing of the scanners (No matter how high the god held his chin, Tony knew tired when he saw it) and then went hopping around the world with it. So, maybe, weakened as he must be, Loki just didn't feel comfortable returning to the Tower where Thor would probably coddle the hell out of him.

Option two, and, unfortunately, the most likely one: he was freaking the fuck out. The spiking in his heart rate and short-circuiting of the AC Prototype (It better be in one piece or there will be hell to pay) evidenced this option, as well as the quietness from over his com while he was jumping from place to place freezing the shit out of aliens.

Which, for the record, was pretty sweet, albeit a little disconcerting.

Loki might be having another panic attack of some sort, or he could be completely breaking down (Something that he, regrettably, understands). Clearly this would have been brought on by the 'not magic' that Loki whipped out on the Chitauri. There was really nothing else going on that could have set him off.

Tony mentally prepared himself for the worst as he spun to the side and down the face of the cliff he'd been riding along. There was a figure a short ways away, sitting on the thick ice that spread out over the ocean water from the cliff side. Tony noticed out of the corner of his eye, the temperature reading decreasing as he neared. Where it had been an even seventeen degrees Fahrenheit, it slowly ticked down, just passing below zero as he turned to hover a short distance in front of Loki.

He'll admit to being a little thrown off by what he saw.

* * *

The frozen air filled Loki's lungs as he breathed deeply of it, heart thudding rapidly in his chest, sitting with his legs folded lotus across each other (a rather grounding position that pressed his legs to the ice; a position taken for delicate magics or meditation). The water beneath the layer of ice on which he sat was calm, and the air still. Ice and snow covered the high cliff wall behind him. Loki's eyes were shut to all of this, however; rather, he focused inward. He flinched away as his frozen core lashed out when he attempted to force it back into its knot. The ice beneath him thickened slightly and cracked out around him, a spike climbing a short ways up the cliff. The power rushed out over him, searing through his veins marvelously in a way that sent a shudder of pleasure through his frame.

Disgusted and furious he clamped it down as bile rose to his throat. The power had begun molding into him the second he set it free from the tight knot within him. When he'd used the Casket to freeze Heimdall he's only brushed it, leaving it tied up at his center and letting the Casket amplify the little he had taken, and touching the Casket before had seeped just under his skin. This... this was too much. Seven times he tapped the power fully and deeply, allowing his desire for the death of those creatures fuel his resolve as the power swelled with each use. The rush it brought was... terrible, disgusting, revolting. _Magnificent_. _Beautiful_. _Elating_.

He forced his body to stop shaking, beginning, again, the task of herding it back. It reached through his magic, attempting to grasp at the Casket that sat in his pocket of space, and he took firm hold of it, yanking it back. It spread back into him and he took a steady breath, gathering it inward. He splayed his hands on the ice on either side of him, to steady himself further, biting back revulsion at the comforting feeling of it. The power swirling within him bucked against him, slipping from his hold as Loki grappled with it.

Loki lost his grip for a moment, then, as curiosity overcame him. He knew nothing of his natural Jötunn powers. He shut that thought down viciously as soon as it began. He didn't _want_ to know; he had turned to it out of necessity, nothing more. The chill roiled, searing briefly, and sending a shiver of burning, eager pleasure through him, before he tore it down again. He pushed and pushed, but it kept tearing away again and again moving under his skin smoothly, as though it belonged there, and it _did not_. Firmly, he tugged at Yggdrasil's energies, and tried to force control over his Jötunn blood, using it to cow the frozen thing. He began to weave it into itself, with it writhing and screaming from behind his magic, breath becoming ragged-

"You know you're blue, right?"

Loki's eyes snapped open as the chill within him churned irritably, spreading out through him, all his work undone. He flinched at the light of dawn on the horizon behind the hovering figure of red and gold.

"Stark," He hissed, eyes widening as they darted around the surrounding area.

"Aw, what happened to Anthony?" The mechanized version of Tony's voice said from behind he gold mask, "It was really growing on me."

Loki kept his face straight and took a calming breath, swallowing back a cold jolt at the thought of being seen like this, looking up at Tony. The repulsors kept him a few feet in the air, and about three yards away. Loki couldn't see his face, but his tone suggested no particular reaction to his appearance, though Tony was about as accomplished a liar as he.

"The ice is solid," He said evenly. Tony killed the power to the repulsors and dropped, clearly before JARVIS could warn him.

Loki relished in the savage crack and splash.

"You _fucking_ _dick_."

"I did not say it was solid enough for three hundred pounds of metal and Stark to drop onto it," Loki said, a smile twisting the corner of his lips, though he hadn't meant it for humor's sake, as Stark clawed at the more solid ice left undisturbed around where he was half-submerged, "_Sincerest_ apologies."

Tony pulled himself out of the hole and flopped down on the thicker ice closer to Loki, the back of his head hitting it with a clang just before Loki's crossed legs. Loki looked down on him, and Tony tilted his head back, slightly.

"Hi," he deadpanned, "Now I'm wet. And it's freezing here. In _Norway_. In late fall."

Loki raised a hand and summoned a bit of magic, wincing as it tore through the Jötunn power, and staggered. The heat he intended to conjure made steam rise from Tony's suit, but also flickered close to him, held back by the chill within him, causing a green flame to lick at his hand. With a hiss, he drew his hand to his chest, looking down at it. With a start, he saw, around the lightly burned flesh, that his hand bled Æsir pale, and he felt an angry stir of the Jötunn power as it fled from the area.

_Of course!_

Heat to counter the cold, he thought triumphantly. His smile slipped from his face and he watched in horror as the cobalt blue began to turn back over his skin. No, no, no, no, _no! _Loki summoned a swell of magic, that protested weakly in its exhaustion, and molded it into fire, making the power humming in his blood hiss and cry angrily. Frantically he cast it up his arm, searing at the flesh there, but his concentration broke as he was grabbed roughly and shaken, the fire dissipating into the air.

"Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?" Tony asked, incredulous and... something else, "Oh, _fuck_, that's-"

Loki looked down at the burnt tatters of his sleeve, as blood began to seep from deep burns surrounded by pink flesh and he felt it begin to sting agonizingly. It wasn't enough. Loki's mind became more and more panicked and terrified as his pink skin turned to blue once again and the red stains became interwoven with deep blue-green as his blood began to flow of a Jötunn hue. More. Maybe more heat, more fire; that will work. He could not force it back, so he must burn it out, then. He conjured it in his hands only to be furiously shaken by the shoulders, his concentration shattered once more. His wide eyes turned up to meet the glowing bight white-blue and gold of the Iron Man mask.

"Hey, hey, hey! Loki, what are you _doing_?"

"It won't go away," Loki whispered hoarsely, desperation flooding his every nerve, "I have to make it go away. The fire will make it go away."

Couldn't Tony see that? He had to burn it out. He had to get rid of it. It slithered under his skin, comforting and pleasant, but it lied. It was lying and sweet and gentle. It was sick and monstrous and it _lied_. Loki raised his burnt arm and tore away Tony's grip, seeing, in terror, that his arm had entirely turned back to blue, pricking at the stinging burn soothingly with its mendacious chill. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with _Tony_? He had to burn it out; burn all of it out. From his skin, from his blood, from his heart.

_Son of no one, brother of no one, blood of monsters. Show them the monster. Show them what they did to you, and your wrath will be **glorious**. Make them pay. Make **him** pay. See their lies strewn in blood._

Loki's eyes burned as the poisonous voice seeped out of the dark corners of his mind and he barely saw Tony forming the most ridiculous word that had ever come out of his mouth, horror coloring the tone.

"_Why?_"

Struck, Loki turned his gaze up at the metal mask that was inches from his own face. Vaguely, he registered surprise that the man in iron (gold-titanium alloy, a distant, drowned out part of his mind corrected) hadn't iced up from the moisture in the air clinging to him, while being so close to the cold that Loki emitted. In the time that these thoughts processed, slower and more sluggish than his mind usually works, Tony's hands slowly found their way to his shoulders again, gentler this time, as if frightened of breaking him with his touch alone. The man knelt in red and gold on one knee in front of him, hands firm and steady, but soft on his shoulders. '_Why?'_, he had asked.

"Why_ not?_" Loki breathed, hysterical now, eyes wide and anger swelling the power in him, "You _see_ this, do you not?" - He pressed his hand firmly to the ice and beneath it ragged cracks spread out as he scowled - "Of course you do. You're trying to trick me. I have to- I can_not_-!"

"Yeah, Loki," Tony said, putting the other knee to the ground and leaning in, "I see it. It just saved lives. _You_ just saved lives _with_ it. And it's... kind of _stunning_, if I'm being honest, here."

"_Stop_!" Loki shouted, pushing weakly at Tony's arms, "Stop _lying_ to me! Let _go_ of me!"

His half-exhausted protests were overpowered easily, Tony's metal encased hand reaching up to grasp the back of his neck, steadying him.

"Hey," He said, tone soothing despite its distortion, "It's okay. You're okay."

"If you believe that is truth, then you are a fool!" Loki hissed.

"Tell me what I can do," Tony pleaded, desperation coloring his voice, "Please, just tell me what I can do to help you."

"Nothing," Loki said, voice breaking with a sob, "There is _nothing_ you can do. Leave. Me. _Alone_!"

A wave of power crashed through him on the last furious world, and he barely registered Tony's surprised grunt as a blast of cold air knocked into him and ice formed around his knees, freezing the metal in place. The grip on the back of his head and shoulder tightened painfully for a moment before relaxing.

"No!" Tony growled.

"Why are you still _here_?" Loki demanded, eyes beginning to sting as moisture gathered behind them, "Why are you _here_ at all?"

"Please, just calm down," Tony implored, "_Please_. Just take a deep breath, and relax. Come on," Tony brought both hands to rest on Loki's face, cupping his cheeks gently, but steadily, the blue light from the slits of the mask shining brightly in Loki's wide red eyes, and Loki could almost imagine the darkened, worried expression of Tony's face, "Breathe."

Loki tried. He _tried_. He sucked in the cold air, and felt it fill his lungs and he wondered briefly how long he'd been holding his breath, but there was too much panic. There was no control (and he _needed_ control as much as he needed the air); nothing but swirling emotions and power that moved too quickly to register or grab onto. Desperate, he reached up with his bloodied and burned hand and grabbed onto Tony's metal shoulder, tight enough to dent into his flesh, drawing a hiss from the mortal and making it spark slightly. Loki's forehead pitched forward and fell against Tony's, the mortal's hands falling back to his shoulders.

"I can't," he whimpered, pitifully, eyes shutting tightly as he grabbed at his magic again through the storm, "I can_not_. I cannot force it back. I _have_ to-"

"If you burn yourself again I swear I will blast this ice right out from under us," Tony growled, grip tightening, and Loki lost his hold on his magic in the chaos, so thin was the strand he held on to, "Just _calm down._"

Words tumbled out, even though he knew that Tony would probably not understand what he was saying. All the desperation that left his arm scored and bleeding fell to sheer hysteria and he could not make a coherent thought.

"I can't hold it!" Loki's words slurred slightly, "I'm trying to grab it, to push it back, but I _can't, _it slips from my fingers every time. I can't _stop_ it!"

"Then don't!" Tony said, "Just don't. Let it _go_, Loki. Breathe; stop fighting it, and it'll stop fighting you. It's... it's like the Devil's Snare. Except you probably don't get that reference."

Loki took a deep, ragged, breath, trying to comply, and forcing back all the revulsion at it, arm stinging something fierce He stopped trying to grab for the power or steer it in and it reasserted an even flow under his skin, humming comfortingly instead of rushing to and fro eagerly. Loki flinched, and made to grab it again, because this was _not right_. As if he could read his thoughts, Tony gave him a rough shake.

"Just let it go, Loki," Tony breathed, as a hand shakily trailed up to rest on the back of his neck, brushing the ends of his hair.

The metal against him was far from soft and shouldn't have been so comforting, but Loki slumped further against the man encased in it, all the same, his head falling with it to rest just under Tony's chin. His own bloody hand, which had been resting in the groove of the sparking and damaged plating on Tony's shoulder, trailed down to rest just beside the arc reactor. His body relaxed and he allowed the chill in his blood to settle soothingly. His senses returned to him, and his thoughts became clearer, as his heart rate, that he now heard thudding in his ears, began to slow. He became distinctly aware, with his far from mortal senses, of the heart beating just as rapidly under his hand, through the cloth and metal that it was protected by. The feel of it further calmed him and Loki breathed deeply again, looking inward.

Gently he directed the power toward his center, tentatively guiding, rather than forcefully grasping. It obeyed him easily, retreating from his skin and following him in. He wrapped it in on itself, allowing the shudder to pass through his frame as his power moved. As it was all pulled in, he tied it off neatly and it beat lowly deep within him, the small knot it once was, that he was blind to all his life.

His eyes opened gleaming green, greeted first by the sight of red trailing slowly down over blue-green stains. He could see his breath in the air and felt the surrounding chill bite at his skin. His hand was splayed over Tony's armor, burns still seeping slightly, thumb and forefinger framing the glowing blue-white circle at its center, heart beating away beneath it, and distressingly pale around the wounds; but there was only relief.

"How did you know?" Loki breathed incredulously.

He more felt than heard Tony breathe a half-hysterical laugh, removing the hand on his shoulder and leaning back slightly. Loki caught himself mourning the loss of pressure, but made no move to stop it. He tilted his head up, pushing lightly with his hand to steadily right himself, and saw Tony finish pulling his helmet from his head. Tony let out a heavy puff of breath, fogging the air, as his cheeks immediately began to redden in the cold, and fixed him with a soft expression. Loki felt calmness begin to suffuse him, and he realized, fully, what just happened.

With shame and horror, he realized that he had broken. After days of careful control. Even that darkness in his mind did little to bother him. He reveled in the way he could put a smile to Thor's face with a few simple words, and was comforted by his isolation. Everything could be forgotten as he worked or teased Tony or meditated at night, keeping his interactions with most people to a minimum. But, now, the heart of the matter reared its ugly head; the thing that it could all me traced back to. The thing that caused him to become so desperate to prove to himself, to _Odin_, that he was Æsir, _equal_ to his brother, that he nearly killed Thor (_Did_ kill him, a vicious part of him reminded). It was what had made it so easy to give into Thanos and the madness constructed from his fall. It was what led him to let go without the intent to survive.

"Pepper used to-" Tony started but paused briefly, eyes darkening for a second, before starting again, "Pepper used to help me through my own... breakdowns after- well, it doesn't matter. She talked me through it; the less I panicked and tried to force it, the better it got. Maybe I didn't exactly have a blizzard backing me up, but I guessed that the same principle applied."

_I do not break_, Loki bit back, and things came sharply into focus. It was a lie that even he was not skilled enough to tell. Suddenly, with his mind clear enough and willing enough to think it, something clicked. Emotion. Jötunn powers responded to emotion. The more he panicked the more it skittered around, evading his grasp. The more he fought it, the more it swelled and craved the power and violence of the Casket. When he got angry, it lashed out from him, especially with the ferocity of his malice toward the Chitauri. Loki filed the thoughts away, not exactly for later use – this would never happen again if he could help it – but more to simply have it. Organizing his thoughts was a calming task, and it was nice to hear them in complete sentences after the haze of emotion and panic. Loki's thoughts wearily moved about, pushing away and blocking up everything that just happened.

The cold bit, not unpleasantly, at his warmed skin. He wondered upon that; Odin was gifted with some magics, but to change a person's very nature is perhaps beyond even him. It was remarkable, really. Loki's own innate shape-shifting abilities were obviously at play, though the extent was fascinating. He... hadn't thought about any of this since he was last in Asgard. The 'how' of it all, rather than the 'what' that haunted him. But, now, Tony Stark had seen the 'what'. The man was clearly a master of masking emotion, unless he truly was unsurprised to see that he was a monster in body as well as heart. Though that did not explain the reason for his staying when it was clear that he was unwanted.

Of course, Stark wouldn't really know what it _meant_, would he? He'd no doubt seen many strange things on Midgard, this must surely not be the most astonishing of it. No, Stark does not understand what it is to be... Jötunn, likely does not even make the connection. And, clearly, the man had decided not to press the issue. Loki decided, tiredly, to be thankful. He was selfish enough for that.

"So," Tony said, turning and sliding on the ice so that he sat next to Loki, leaning back on his elbows, and maybe, just a little bit, in shock, "Norway is pretty cool. Never actually been here, before. Lots of... ice and grassy canyons-"

"Fjords," Loki supplied with little thought.

"Those, too," Tony conceded with a grin, flicking a finger in Loki's direction; his gaze flickered down for a second and turned slightly troubled, "Uh... should we head back? We should probably bandage that."

Odd how it only began to sting when Tony pointed it out. Loki looked down at his arm, turning his palm up and flexing his fingers lightly. The skin pulled painfully, ghostly white painted red and blue around jagged burns that ripped the flesh almost to bone. The cold nipped at it, but he had always been particularly resilient to it, even as he is in this form, and it did nothing to numb the pain. He hadn't the energy to call up healing magics, having exhausted what was left of it _causing_ the damage in the first place. What a _charming_ idea for his panic-ridden mind to conjure.

But that _vile_ power running through him-

Loki could almost recreate the feeling that brought such desperation as to try and burn it out; without panic induced haze. He tore his thoughts from that path. It didn't matter any more. What must Tony think of him? How weak and pathetic he had been, turning his own magic on himself. It ought to be baffling, but he found himself less than surprised at his actions.

"It will heal," Loki said shortly.

In good, Tony Stark fashion, the mortal started babbling like an idiot, somewhat reminiscent of the night that the man had come to him after his brief pull into memories better left forgotten. A little more than relieved that the subject would not be pushed, he allowed himself to be distracted.

"How are you _even_ sitting like that?" Tony asked, gesturing to Loki, who looked over, and folding one leg under him, scraping against the ice, and attempting to place the other on top of it, except, even if he could do that, in the suit or at all, it was only half of what Loki was doing. Loki's lips twitched slightly and then slowly turned up in a smile at Tony's struggle and Tony grinned, "You are _seriously_ flexible, my-ACK!"

Tony's attempts sent him falling backwards sharply and he braced for impact, and, almost instinctively, Loki's hand shot out to stop it. Two fingers hooked on the collar of Stark's suit and yanked him up, his burned hand splaying on the ice between them as he pulled the man up. As Tony's face came just inches from his own, his mouth twisted into a smile, eyes glinting with mirth. He leaned in, tilting his head just so their lips might brush when he spoke.

"Care to find out precisely _how_ flexible, Tony?"

Tony swallowed thickly, and Loki's lips quirked up even more. The man's eyes glazed over and Loki momentarily debated indulging.

Then, he let go.

Tony pitched sideways, metal hitting ice with a dull clack. Momentarily stunned, Tony just lay there, and Loki was confident in his decision that this was the more satisfying option.

"Talk to me, Stark," Fury's voice echoed from Tony's helmet which sat to the side, "What's happening?"

Tony groaned and rolled to his back, seeming to have forgotten about the Director. Loki allowed an amused smile at his response.

"We're good, Nick," Tony said, then glanced over at Loki, something like warning in his eyes, "We're good, right?"

Loki breathed a laugh.

"Yes," He said, "We are."

"See, Nicky? All good. It was just, uh... a little magical mishap. He's just tired."

Well played, Tony Stark, and much obliged, Loki thought wearily.

"Get both your asses back here on the double," Fury growled, "Thor's having a conniption."

"Aw, you went all the way to the tower to make sure we got back okay," Tony crooned mockingly, "How sweet."

"Just get back here, Stark."

Loki felt a rush of sadness at the mention of his brother. He made no move to stand or pull at his magic (Which he thought might be a little angry at him right now, anyway) despite the command. He was not made to be commanded, after all, and certainly not by Nick Fury. He would return when he wished to. Thor would merely have to wait; long enough that when he returned he might be able to offer him some plausible explanation for his flight. Exhaustion, perhaps, as Tony just told Fury. He didn't have the energy to make it all the way back from China. Because that would be the only reason he would not come immediately back to his brother, because he simply couldn't. His magic staggered, shorting out the device Tony had given him and he was gathering his energy when the man came to find him.

He'd go as soon as he could manage to keep all traces of this... event from his face and eyes, and... muster the energy to heal his arm, or at least conceal it. He ignored the sight and feel of the mangled limb as he prodded experimentally at his magic, and it limply caressed back. That may take a little time. He decided that it would be quickest to wait for the energy to teleport and conceal his arm (Though Sif always had something of a sixth sense for his magic, so he would need to avoid her until he could properly deal with it). Shape-shifting would require him to heal the arm fully, lest it simply shift into a burnt wing, and it would take far too long to travel, anyway. There was a shifting beside him and Loki realized that Tony hadn't left yet. He looked over to see the man propped up on one arm looking at Loki with a smile. Loki pulled his best 'What in the Nine Realms are _you_ looking at?' expression; brow raising and eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You called me Tony," He said, lips pulling back into a toothy grin, "I feel so loved right now."

Loki scoffed.

"Is that why you're still here?" He asked, "A name? Your master called you home, should you not go?"

"Pfft, Fury doesn't tell me what to do," Tony said, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head, "You're horrible at being grateful, you know. Besides, how do you plan on getting back? No offense, but you don't look like you're about to get enough mojo to go continent hopping again. I'm your ride, Rudolf, and seeing as I'm not a complete dick like _some_ people; I'm not leaving without you."

"Tony-"

"Ah-ha!" Tony exclaimed, sitting upright and pointing a finger at Loki, "There you go again! This is awesome."

"_Anthony_."

"Now, you're just _trying_ to hurt me."

"I am not flying back with you," Loki said, rolling his eyes at Tony's behavior, "That is simply a disaster waiting to happen."

"Because the rest of this day has been so fantastic," Tony deadpanned, then shrugged, "We're due some good luck. I won't drop you; scout's honor."

"I somehow doubt that you were ever a boyscout," Loki said, "Regardless, I must wait and heal my arm."

"Already planning how you're going to hide from Thor?"

Loki sighed.

"You know my stance on that matter," He said tiredly, "It has not changed."

"Well, it should," Tony said, eyes hardening on Loki, "I'm not going to go into how Thor deserves to know the truth about what's going on with you, because he loves you a stupid bunch, but how about this: _you_ need _him_."

"I do not _need_ anyone!" Loki hissed.

"Oh, so I should have just left you here to freak the fuck out?" Tony snapped, "Because it sure seemed like you needed _me_ a few minutes ago."

"I am _fine_," Loki insisted,

"I don't know how you do it in Asgard," Tony said, reaching out and grabbing the tattered sleeve of Loki's burnt arm, "But, here on Earth, _burning your own skin off_ isn't 'fine'!"

"I-"

"_I'm not done!_" Tony snapped, and Loki, surprised, fell silent, "Look, I wasn't going to get into this. Because, frankly; it's really none of my business. But, now you're just starting to piss me off. So, we're gonna have a nice long chat, you and I. Because there's a point where it's just enough and my patience isn't as saint-like as Pepper's. But, I'm freezing my face off right now, _and_ my shoulder because _someone_ wrecked my suit, so we're not doing this in fucking _Norway_."

Without giving Loki a chance to respond or complain, Tony had his helmet back on, shielding his head from the cold, and hooked an arm under Loki's and around his waist before taking off into the sky.

* * *

Stabilizing himself with one hand wasn't easy, but Tony managed. Loki didn't struggle, which helped, although Tony's other shoulder was bending a little under his grip, now, too. Tony felt a little bad that it was the burnt arm that was across his shoulder, and thought that maybe he should have been a little gentler in picking the guy up. Loki's face was turned away, and his other arm gripped the collar of his suit with three fingers. JARVIS kept alerting him to magic flickering through his arm, likely in an attempt to heal it, and being unsuccessful.

And that kind of pissed him off. Because it was for the sole purpose of hiding what happened from Thor. It was like... it was like watching someone else use a computer. They're doing _everything_ wrong and using the _scroll bar_, and it just makes you want to tear your fucking hair out. Except, this was ten times worse because the god's arm was_ burnt to shreds._ He'd been through the self-hate and the torment and the break downs, _gotten_ through it, and Loki_ wasn't doing it right_. So, he was going to get answers. Get to the bottom of it, and try to fix it before something worse happened (And maybe find out what's up with the blue). Just shove the guy out of the seat and do it yourself; saves a lot of trouble.

Tony bit back bile at the thought of the mutilated arm, shock still flooding through him. What the _hell_? This was... way worse than he thought it might be. He was preparing for a breakdown, not Loki _attacking_ himself_, _because... because what? _Something_ to do with how he got rid of the Chitauri and turns blue; which Tony kind of doesn't really get, because he kind of saved the day. He was missing something big here, and it was grating on his curiosity in a way that he was almost ashamed of. Tony gripped Loki's waist tightly, and was briefly at a loss of what he could even _do_. Yeah, he could try and get some answers on what just happened, and try to get him to work on it or for God's sake tell _Thor_ so _he_ could deal with it, but he knew that he couldn't do _anything_ if Loki didn't want him to.

New York was already glittering on the horizon and JARVIS informed him that Loki's heart was starting to beat a little too fast, so Tony, very deliberately, veered away from the direction of Stark Tower.

That wasn't where he was going, anyway.

"I'm keeping your secrets, so you're gonna keep mine, alright?" Tony said loudly against the wind, making Loki's head tilt up slightly. The shift was only seen out of the corner of his eye and he just had to assume that Loki was listening, "Not a word to anyone, capiche?"

There was a brief pause, in which Tony almost decided to flick Loki in the head or something if he didn't respond.

"Very well, Tony," Loki said only just loud enough to hear over the rush of air.

He was too frustrated to revel in the small victory of Loki choosing to call him Tony this time. There was a point. A point that one might realize that they aren't Pepper Potts, and even though Pepper is a very wonderful person and helped him through a lot of shit, everyone has to do things their own way. Tony's way might have a track record of doing more harm than good, but Tony's way was also a lot more satisfying (If not Steve Rogers approved).

Soon enough they were flying between tall buildings as Tony navigated Manhattan, drawing ever closer to their destination. He had no doubt that Loki would taunt him with ruining this surprise just as much as Tony bothered him about telling Thor, but was fairly confident in his ability to keep it to himself. Darting down Fifth Avenue, he stopped abruptly just as he passed 70th and turned to the right, beginning to descend. The green grounds and tall trees surrounding the mansion quickly gave to the wall of the house already folded down to receive him and Tony dropped in.

As soon as his feet his the ground Loki tore away, taking a step to the side. The wall hissed and began to move back into place. Loki's head snapped to look over at it, but otherwise made no move. As the wall moved, Tony looked around the half-finished hangar, and stepped forward onto a small platform. JARVIS spoke cheerily as machinery came up from the floor to pull him from the damaged and bloody suit.

"Welcome home, sir."

"I do not understand what it is you fear I may reveal," Loki said, as the pieces of the suit were pulled into the ground and he was left in his jeans and black wife-beater, "It is your house."

"Do people's houses have hangars with quinjets?" Tony asked, jerking a finger toward the two that sat on the other side of the huge room littered with scaffolding.

"You intend to invite the Avengers to live here instead of your tower," Loki concluded, gesturing lightly with his burnt arm in a way that couldn't _not_ hurt.

"Yeah," Tony said, "Tower's great, but it was never meant to house all of us. I don't really play well with others, and I hadn't really intended to try when I built it."

"This is where you choose to interrogate me about things you have admitted to being none of your business, then?" Loki said evenly, folding his arms over his chest without even a flinch at brushing and putting pressure on his injury.

Tony leveled him a long look, before gesturing Loki to follow with a sigh and moving to run a hand through his hair. Tony felt uneasy at the sight of Loki's self-inflicted injury, though couldn't imagine that it might be worse than whatever unease Loki was feeling right now. He couldn't help but think 'Yeah, I've been there'. He thought that a lot about Loki. Maybe he'd never actually taken a sharp object (or blow torch) to his flesh before, but he'd been just as...

Let's say self-destructive. It's something he could freely admit. He wasn't exactly his own biggest fan in those days. Though he still indulged in alcohol from time to time, it wasn't the _problem_ it once was (mostly). There were days that he just couldn't stand the face in the mirror, and drinking and sex drowned it. Okay, so, maybe drowning wasn't a good thing. He never actually dealt with things; he just swept them under the rug and pretended that they weren't there. He knew what it was to hate the skin he wore.

And Loki just happened to hate his enough to go into a panic and try and burn it off. The thought made Tony feel just a little sick. No matter how he might understand a mindset like that... it was horribly shocking and, for some reason, _infuriating_. Especially for it to be someone like Loki; a proclaimed god, that's kind of been living up to that, who Tony had come to find relished in control and didn't take well to losing it. He wondered what _Loki_ himself thought of it all right now.

He didn't know exactly what just happened, but he knew the feelings playing across Loki's face and the fear in those red eyes that Tony, maybe just sort of, can't help but find rather stunning.

"Well, it's better than Norway," Tony said, a little coldly, as he walked across the expansive hangar, two sets of echoing footsteps the only evidence that Loki was following, "And I imagine that _you_ think it's better than back at the Tower."

There was no response, but Loki continued to follow him toward the elevator. He spun around just as Loki moved to his side, doing the same.

"Basement, JARVIS," He said, "And run some warm water."

The elevator lurched to a start, and Tony ignored Loki's curious glance. The ride was tense and silent, and Tony was under no illusion that Loki was here for any other reason than that he didn't have the energy to poof away. Tony was relieved when the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He took a sharp left immediately out of the elevator and placed a hand on a scanner on the wall next to the door just there. The door opened and Tony stepped in, turning back to find that Loki hadn't budged from just outside the elevator. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to help you with that, or not?" Tony said, pointing at Loki's arm.

"I said that it will heal," Loki said, but walked after him anyway.

Tony snorted as he turned to walk into the med room, the decontamination airlock was unfinished, so he just walked right in, going immediately to the cabinets with bandages and cloth and antiseptic.

"You realize it's still bleeding, right?" Tony said as he grabbed the filled basin of water from the sink and walked over to the table, cradling the rest of the supplies in his other arm.

Loki glanced down at his arm, seeming a little surprised that it was, indeed, bleeding slightly, after how he had irritated it. And, gods, every time Tony looked at that arm it sent him reeling. Tony gestured to the table and put a cloth in the basin as Loki obliged, sitting up on it. He stuck his arm toward Tony, head tilted away petulantly and Tony rolled his eyes. Steeling his nerves he picked up the wet cloth and gently took hold of Loki's wrist, eyes darting up to see if Loki flinched. He didn't.

"So, excuse me if I don't get it," Tony started, beginning to dab around the burns, cleaning away the dried blood, "But, you're the hero today. You beat the bad guys, saved lives, thwarted the evil plot, blah, blah, blah. Why..."

_This_.

"I did not save any lives today," Loki said coldly, "All that power does is _take_ and _kill_ and _betray_. It is-"

Loki choked on his words.

"Bullshit," Tony said, and Loki looked up at him in surprise, "You're here, helping us; defending a world that isn't yours against a force that you admit to fearing. That's noble almost to a fault. And, this, all while you're trying to keep your own cool about the shit-storm that is your mental stability. Which you should tell your brother about – hey, don't glare; I'm just saying. And, okay, apparently you can freeze small armies to death. Good to know. And, it turns you blue. But, what do you think they were planning? A tea party? We _know_ why they're here; you brought us that, remember? Those things were going to kill people, Loki, and you stopped them."

Loki chuckled bitterly in a way that made Tony just a little uneasy. Because, that was a laugh that said 'Oh, _Anthony_, how _wrong_ you are'.

"Oh, and what do you think, then?" Tony asked, and maybe, just a little, relishing in the surprised hiss as he dabbed antiseptic on the burns, "Because I'd really like to know why you freaked out. Okay, it's obvious you didn't know how to control it, but that's no reason to go trying to- to do _this_!"

He gestured to the arm as he let go of it to grab the bandages after wiping Loki's blood (_Loki's_ blood; for some reason that was so wrong in so many ways) off of his hand. His own shoulder ached slightly and he rolled it as Loki sat silent, not responding.

"I am not here to answer your inane questions about things you do not understand," Loki said after a long moment, and Tony began to wrap his arm.

"Make me understand," Tony said, pulling maybe a little too tight, but Loki didn't respond this time, "Because, I'll be honest here; you've got me a little freaked out and more than a little worried."

"You are _curious_, Anthony," Loki said darkly, lips twisting up in a cold and cruel looking smile, "Your mind aches to _know_. Do not hide behind false _care_."

Indignation surged up. Okay, maybe there was a _little_ curiosity, but the god just had a breakdown complete with self-mutilation; he was _worried_. He wanted to help; what was the point of a second chance if he just screwed it up? Tony wanted this to end in a good place, because it's started out pretty well so far. He's _rooting_ for Loki here. Not whatever it is in his head that led him to _this_. And Tony knew what the center of something looked like, and this was kind of looking like the center of Loki's problems. And here Loki was trying to-

Hey.

_Hey!_

"Don't you 'Absorb and Deflect' me!" Tony snapped, tugging on the bandage he'd not finished wrapping around Loki's forearm, "I practically invented that. It's mine and you can't use it."

Loki remained silent, eyes glinting darkly before looking away.

"Oh, so you're just not going to say _anything_, huh?" Tony sneered, "That's _real_ mature. Fine; I'll just ask Thor when we get back-"

Loki snatched his arm away, standing and reaching his other up in a flash. Suddenly it all stopped; Loki froze, hand poised to grab hold of Tony's throat, eyes wide and shocked. To his credit, Tony had managed not to flinch. His eyes flickered down to the hand not an inch from his neck, then back to Loki's face and he could see the shame as it began to flood his features. Loki's hand slowly lowered and Tony found himself letting out a breath he hadn't known that he held. Loki looked at him with guilt for a second before turning his head away, lifting his arm to finish bandaging it himself.

Silence stretched for a long moment, in which Tony watched warily.

"Jötunn," Loki said quietly.

Ladies and gentlemen; the Tony Stark method (Not Steve Rogers approved).

Poke at it until it gives you what you want.

And maybe, very nearly chokes the life out of you.

"By blood, I am Jötunn," Loki continued tiredly, finishing wrapping his arm and holding it back out for Tony to tape it off, "Frost Giant. The power I used today is that of my... _kin_."

The word looked and sounded like it left a bad taste in his mouth, and as Tony taped the bandage and began to wrap his hand, he asked the question that burned to the surface at the sound of it.

"And what does Jötunn mean to _you?_"

Loki fixed him with a weary and haunted look, eyes dull and defeated.

"Monster."

* * *

There was nothing but silence to follow, because Tony made his decision then and there. Tony stepped back into his suit, cleaned and pieces replaced by JARVIS, flying them back to the Tower, in the pale light of dawn, and let Loki conceal his arm with the little magic he could muster. As if he might have been able to stop him, Loki thought. He smiled for Thor and avoided Sif and maybe the Black Widow was looking at him a little strangely, too. Barton was vocally suspicious. Tony gave him long sad looks that no one else seemed to notice and he retired to his room, despite Fury's insistence for a meeting.

Too exhausted to do anything else, he slept.

But it was not kind.

He woke, gasping for air, instantly assaulted by a comforting, engulfing pressure around his body.

"I have you, brother."

"Thor?" Loki whispered, as his eyes adjusted and he tilted his head to the side. In the darkness he could see the hulking figure of his brother lying beside him, arm cast protectively over him.

"Your smile spoke lies, Loki," Thor said quietly, arm tightening around his brother, drawing him close, "We will speak when you wake. Rest well, brother; you are tired."

Loki slept well for the first time in over a year.

Walking away from the door, Tony regretted nothing, because, in the end, he hadn't even said a word to Thor.

* * *

A/N: Like I said, I don't know how I feel about this. I think it ended up too dark, and I couldn't handle it properly. I don't have any experience with that type of thing. My other option was that all was pretty much under control and Loki was just calming himself down a little. There was no issue with the powers, there was some snarking between him and Tony, but as soon as he'd let go of the Casket, the big blue faded, instead of staying, because of how much he'd let it go. Then, meeting, planning, and continuation of plot.

This happened entirely by accident. Please let me know if you think it was too much. If enough people don't like it, because of how uneasy I am about it; I will debate going with option 2 and reworking this.

EDIT: This chapter has been up for *checks clock* less than six hours, and already over ten people are insisting that it's great the way it is. Thanks so much for that, I was really nervous that I wasn't up to the task of this chapter. You've all eased my worries, and I've read through it all again and I DO like it the way it is. Thank you.

Also, I drew a picture for this chapter:

cherry-top . deviantart # / d55ouc3

Remove spaces =)


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: 9k ;) I'm not going to doubt myself this time, because you all seem to be pretty much cool with everything I've doubted so far. I hope you like it!

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel's Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Incredible Hulk, or Avengers.**

* * *

Conviction

* * *

Chapter 8

* * *

Waking was a leisurely affair. He laid there for a long moment, eyes still closed, relishing in the feel of waking well rested. It felt as if it had been... far too long. His hand tightened in the fabric beneath it, curling into the warmth at his side, the pressure over his arm pressing closer to him comfortingly and Loki was perfectly content to lie here for the rest of his life. He breathed the smell of steel and rain and smiled. Thor must have sneaked in some time last night. Probably trying to avoid being woken for his morning lesson with the tutor. Loki allowed himself to begin drifting off again, not particularly caring about the scolding he'll get from father for allowing Thor to hide in his room; though, why they never checked here first was baffling.

"Have you awoken, brother?"

Except the voice was far too deep, too old, to be his brother and the world began to right itself. He was not on Asgard. He was not in the palace. He was not in his room. And, his brother hadn't had morning lessons since Thor convinced him to scare off the third tutor, too, and father learned that there was no use in getting his eldest to pay attention to anything so early. A hazy memory drew to the surface of pain and terror and biting _cold_ chased away by his brother's voice, and a long, weary day. Panic took him for half a second before the warmth around him seeped in soothingly again. Loki felt a swell of affection as he opened his eyes, seeing bright blue shining in the darkened room.

So, Loki did what any sensible little brother might do in this situation.

_Thump._

"Fiend!"

"How long have I slept?" Loki asked, voice slightly slurred with the last vestiges of sleep

Thor blinked away his confusion and pulled himself back up from the floor to sit on the bed that Loki had shoved him off of next to where Loki lay with his eyes gleaming with mirth.

"Quite some time," his brother said, "It was only just past morning when I came here; it is nearly morning again."

Loki turned and pushed himself up, body protesting movement after so long being still. He bit back a hiss at putting pressure on his burnt arm, as pain shot through it. His back straightened instantly, and his eyes darted to his brother who stretched his neck, and gave Loki a playful glare. Loki lamented having managed to pull off most of his garments before collapsing in exhaustion, for now his bandaged arm was exposed, illusion of unblemished skin having fallen sometime in his rest. But, looking at his brother's unguarded and affectionate expression, he simply laid the arm gently in his lap and spoke, resigned.

"JARVIS, lights; if you will."

The shading on the windows that blocked out all outside light, rose up and the low light of predawn trickled through as the ceiling light flicked on. Thor's hand flew up to cover his eyes and he fell back against the sheets.

"Mercy, brother!" He exclaimed and Loki's lips twitched up in response as he rubbed at his own eyes.

He pulled his legs in, folding them across each other, looking down at the small red splotches that had appeared on the white cloth around his arm as he cradled it in his lap. His hand ached lightly and streaks of pain stung at him from using it to lift himself up, and his palm was stained red. Wonderful, Loki thought sarcastically, he tore the healing skin. After almost a whole twenty-four hours, it ought to be half healed by now, and he's just undone a lot of work.

Never mind how the injury came to be; he's not going to think about it, nor the mortal that saved the same from happening to his entire body – or at least as much of it he could get to before his magic stuttered and died. Or, perhaps he might have just gone straight to the center and heated it to a point that his body couldn't take it and expired. Except, these are the very thoughts he did not want to touch upon, so he shoved them away.

Though he was resolved to forget what had happened (What he'd _done_), he knew better than to ignore the consequences of his misstep of exhaustion allowing Thor to see through his facade when they returned and sleeping so long and deeply that his illusion had fallen. He knew that hiding from his brother in this was futile at this point. He was nothing if not stubborn, and he would worry and make sad eyes if he simply brushed this off. And that was counterproductive to the point of keeping his fall to madness from his brother. Loki only noticed that Thor had sat up beside him again when his fingers gently brushed the side of his thumb before taking his hand lightly in his.

To Loki's surprise, Thor did not say a word.

His brother brought his other hand to the opposite side of Loki's head from which he sat, and leaned in to press a kiss to his temple that warmed his skin and heart with affection. Then, Thor simply sat at his side, his hand moving to rest on his shoulder with a light, comforting grip, and Loki thought that this was more pleasant, by far, than that lying thing beneath his skin, because _this_ he could lean into without fear. Still, Thor did not speak, and Loki realized that his brother was waiting for him to start this, but his intermission was silence, unlike Tony's, which was babbling. He was allowing Loki to start on his own terms. Just as he thought that his brother would be sorely disappointed, his mouth opened without his permission.

"You know, do you not?" Loki whispered hoarsely, "What I am?"

There was a long pause.

"Every day," Thor said, quietly, finally, "I would sit at the edge of the broken Bifröst, staring into the abyss that you fell to. Father thought that telling me would..."

Thor trailed off, and Loki tightened his grip on Thor's hand, regardless of how it stung, and turned his head away.

"Dissuade you from neglecting your duties for mourning," Loki finished for him bitterly.

Mourning a vile thing that you have wrongly called your brother.

"Yes."

There was a long silence, in which something gripped Loki's heart tightly and refused to let go, and, when he spoke it was fearful and choked and quiet.

"Did it?"

"No."

The tightening around his heart released and he slumped against his brother with a broken laugh. How sweet and honest that word sounded from his brother. He wondered what he ever might have done to deserve Thor (Certainly nothing recent), and perhaps a little about how much gloating Tony Stark would do about how right he was in Loki's need for his brother. The loving warmth around him seeped into his every nerve and he felt more at peace than he had been in over a long, long year. He forgot, for a moment, all that had led him here, all that had happened in the last several days, and the threat that loomed over the horizon of Thanos' war.

He thought that, perhaps, he ought to thank that woman who had so softened Thor. There was a time, only moments before his banishment that he had wished to hunt down and slay all the Frost Giants in the Nine Realms. Would he have been so loving, so accepting of this terrible truth before? Of what monstrous creature his not-brother really was? Would he have held him and chased away nightmares when they were children?

Loki did not think so, and though there was a small bitter part of him that ached to spit this thought viciously at his brother, he held it down.

"Father was frustrated with me and my distraction," Thor said after a short moment, "But also proud that I did not give up, for that, I think."

Loki's grip tightened painfully at the thought of Odin's pride, eyes darkening and brow furrowing. That was a bridge long burned that may never be mended, and that he did not truly wish to expend the energy attempting to mend. But, leaning against his brother, he was glad that this one could be. He thought bitterly at the lies he told his brother; the falsities he had allowed Thor to believe. It was for Thor's sake, of course; to save him the pain and shame. But, here they sat with the heart of the matter darkening his bandages red as he put too much pressure on it, and it was becoming more than a little difficult.

"I am very proud of you, brother," Thor said quietly, wrapping his arm around Loki as he leaned in, "You know this, do you not? You have shown such strength these past many days as I may never myself conjure. But, brother, if you are hurting; please, do not _hide_ from me. I was not there for you when you needed me most; let me be here for you now."

Thor's perception may be less than average, but you don't know someone for over a thousand years without finding out how to read them in some way. Thor had demonstrated his ability to pick out Loki's lies back on Asgard, much to Loki's surprise (and chagrin). It is only when he is truly set on believing one thing that Loki can get away with the other (And Loki has always been ever careful of Thor's beliefs and how to manipulate them, maliciously or not). Though, Loki could only be glad that Thor had known that something was wrong, because he had not slept so well since he fell from the Bifröst.

There was also the possibility that there was a very dead mortal by the name of Tony Stark somewhere in this building.

But, Loki's throat also tightened and he tried to swallow past it, shamed at Thor's words. It took all the control he could muster to keep the truth from spilling out. Thor didn't need to know. He believed that Loki was something beyond the monster; his brother did not give up when it would have been so much easier to. Loki had given in to the monster at Thanos' behest as he fell and fell in that endless void of nothing and everything and cold and heat so unbearable that he'd have sworn it tore his body to shreds just a surely as it had his mind, and he was too weak to fight. He felt sick for Thor's unwarranted pride, and something small and weak and needy inside of him screamed and cried for truth.

But, _this_, he might take. Thor knew that there was something wrong, and Loki had neglected what little chance he may have had of hiding his burned arm, already. He could allow himself to lean on Thor for this; because Thor would only worry more if he refused to.

So, Loki tried to speak, but his natural response to something painful was making it rather difficult. This is where he would shut it up, and forget about it. This was where he would push away Thor's well meaning embrace, or his mother's concern. Because it was his problem, that he could handle it. There was no need for Thor or mother. It was different, in a freeing sort of way to tell Tony Stark about what it meant to be Jötunn. He was an outsider, really. Though Loki liked the man's strangeness and appreciated his humor and intellect, his knowing, his _seeing_ what weakness he had fallen prey to, did not mean the same thing as Thor's. With Thor he felt the age-old urge to push him away and keep to himself, almost bitterly. He felt a deep need to keep this from Thor, to hoard it away where no one might see it, see his weakness, except, perhaps one small _insignificant_ mortal man. He fought the urge to lean into his brother's embrace as he began to summon up his half-restored magic to knit flesh together under the bandage, words failing him.

It was a war in his mind, there were so many things he wanted, so many things he needed, and so many things that forced their way up, and they were all in contrast with each other. He wanted comfort, he wanted solitude. He needed reassurance, he needed truth (And, those are _not_ the same thing, because he _knew_ the truth and it was terrible and it was monstrous).

"Loki," Thor said firmly, turning his brother to look him in the eyes seriously, "Please, tell me what happened. Yes, this power is different, strange, but not _vile_. It is _yours_, brother."

But, he was _wrong_. He has seen those creatures, and he saw what they would do if given the opportunity (He gave it to them, after all). He has seen their evils, their deceptive and destructive ways, and he had bent to them as well. He has given in to the vile thing that he is, and though he has risen from it, it will always be there. Right there, tied up tightly at his center. Because, in the end, it doesn't matter what Thor may say, or what may happen, or what he can do, he will always be a monster at his heart, and that makes so much more sense than anything that his brother is saying. Because, only a monster so vile as a Jötunn would so revel in that cold destructive power as it seared the flesh of the Chitauri and made them _scream_ in agony. Only a monster so vile as a Jötunn would hate all the Nine Realms enough to one day destroy them all and burn Yggdrasil to the ground. Only a monster so vile as a Jötunn could turn upon his own brother (Because, really, in all that is happened, in Loki's mind, it is that which is most unforgivable).

"How can you call me that?" Loki rasped, "After all I have done and what you know-"

"I have had my eyes opened," Thor said quietly, "You are not a monster, Loki. I think that I truly began to hate our father-"

_Your father_, Loki bit back.

"-for allowing such thoughts to be instilled in you; in us. These poisonous things are what left you so vulnerable to Thanos-"

"Thor," Loki said, hating himself all the way, "Soul would have taken me anyway-"

"Stop lying to me."

Thor looked at him sadly, and Loki realized in horror what he meant. Thor's eyes were tired and understanding in a way that Loki thought he might never see them and they looked at him with sadness but no surprise. Loki pushed away from his brother, but Thor's arms held him firmly; that small part of him rushing up, demanding truth. Tell him, tell him. It's too late to turn back now. Be selfish. Tell him. Because it was enough. Because that weak little thing inside him that screamed and cried and begged was washing over the defensive need to keep it all in.

_I know the turn of your words and the pitch of your voice. I know when you are lying to me._

"I don't know what you mean," Loki said evenly, fighting the shaking of his frame.

"I said," Thor ground out, expression letting Loki know that his patience was at its end, "Stop lying to me."

Shocked, Loki was silent for a long moment. Thor _knew_. _How_ did Thor _know_? He opened his mouth but his voice cracked as he tried to speak more lies. Thor looked at him with fierce, sad and angry eyes, and he cracked under it all. It was all too much to deal with all at once and when next he opened his mouth he found himself spilling nothing but cold truth.

"It was not Thanos that took me," Loki said, swallowing thickly, averting his eyes, "It was madness, Thor. I know my mind, brother, and I know my soul. Both have dark corners and shadowed things in them, but it is all mine. This vile creature that I am – do _not_ interrupt! - I gave into it. The Soul Gem never had hold of me."

There was a long silence, in which Loki refused to look at his brother. Loki's throat closed.

"I'm so sorry," Thor rasped and Loki looked at him in surprise, "I should have been there. Through my arrogance and stupidity, I was not there when I should have been."

Suddenly, very, very angry, Loki snarled and tore away from his brother, his hand stinging as it was wrenched from his brother's tight grip, and off the bed. He spun on Thor with a scowl, who looked at him with surprise and sadness, unable to hold that vicious part of him at these words.

Because, how _dare_ he.

How dare he say such things when not long ago he thought Jötnar little more than creatures without worth. How dare he, when he would slaughter a whole hold of them over the theft of Mjöllnir - That was the fault of his _own_ stupidity, anyway? How dare he when as soon as it is revealed that the builder was Jötunn it was perfectly fine for Thor to crush his skull? How dare he when he would kill hundreds of them over the word _princess_? How dare he, when they have grown knowing nothing more than hate and contempt for those vile creatures that _Loki himself is_.

How dare he claim that he _learned_; that he knew _better_ now. Because he did not. He did not know this horrible thing curled up inside of him, this disgusting power that crawled through his veins and under his skin. This _thing_ is terrible and disturbing and wretched, and how _dare_ Thor think he knew it better than one who had it buried deep inside him?

"It is better that you were not," Loki snapped, viciously angry with Thor, and unable to hold back his torrent of harsh words; wishing nothing more than to knock Thor down in a haze of anger, "Or can you honestly say to me that you would have been so accepting then, as you are now? There is a reason I let those Jötnar into Asgard to disrupt your coronation. You've just said it! Your _arrogance_ and _stupidity_. Odin was harsh, but not untrue. You were a vain, greedy, _cruel_ _**boy**_."

He spat the last word as viciously as he could. He watched as shame cast over Thor's face and that was enough to know that he had spoken true, and he'll admit that it hurt, just a little.

"You were not _fit_ to be king," Loki went on mercilessly, "You started a war on a petty insult. Your '_change_' does not erase over a thousand years of callous words and rash actions; a thousand years of 'Silence, brother.' and 'Know your _place_, brother.'"

Loki's anger began to abate as his brother looked at him with pleading, sad eyes. That sick, vicious anger had caused his brother pain, and he beat it back in shame. Thor did not _know, _but he is _trying_, Loki forced himself to remember. Do not hurt him; this isn't what you want. You never wanted to hurt him. You never want to hurt him again. And, Norns, he wished he could be free of this; that he could speak plainly and without anger without the need to remind himself and force his emotions this way and that.

"I do not forget the rest," Loki said after a moment, quieter, and without malice in his tone, "Not anymore. Do not think that I cannot. I am _trying_, brother. I am."

"Then why did you not let me help you?" Thor stood, tone turning hurt and angry, "When we were in Asgard, when you told me about Thanos, I knew the whole truth. And, brother, I am ashamed that I made such foolish assumptions. When I visited you every day it was because I wanted to help you _heal_. You were hurt and believed yourself betrayed and you thought yourself a monster. There were things twisted in your mind, I know. I wanted to help-"

"You wanted your brother back," Loki snarled, "You wanted things to be the way they were again and I am not fully sure that they can be, but, I could pretend. You gave me the opportunity to, and I took it, because it was easier. I could let you believe that things were well-"

"But, they were not!" Thor cut in loudly, striding forward and taking Loki's shoulders in a bruising hold, "I would rather hurt with you than be ignorant to you! Please, Loki, _please_."

"If that is not what you wanted then you would not have believed it!" Loki said sharply.

Thor's voice cracked, pleading.

"I did not want things to be as they once were," He said quietly, brokenly, "I only wanted to help my little brother."

Loki shut his eyes tightly, trying to step back, but Thor held him still.

"Please, let me, now, Loki. _Please_. I beg you. You- you are breaking my heart, brother, shutting me out. I _love_ you, Loki. Let me help you."

Loki felt tears prick behind his eyes and he blinked them away, but it seemed Thor was not so inclined. Loki watched in grim fascination as water began to streak down Thor's face and his heart clenched painfully. This was not how things were meant to be. He should have held it back; should have kept himself from telling the truth. Because now, Thor, his _brother_, his strong, fearless brother, had tears on his cheeks and Loki was almost – _almost_ – selfish enough to fall against him once more, as he had not long ago in Asgard.

But, he would not see his brother in pain; not for his sake. Not again.

The Mind Gem was in his hand and he called upon his magic, molding it into psionic pressure, that swelled powerfully with Mind's help, and pushing it upon his brother.

Thor was a lot quicker than he used to be, Loki vaguely thought as the glittering blue gem was snatched from his hand.

"No more lies, Loki," Thor said, hurt etched on his face, "No more."

With his last recourse taken, Loki could do nothing more than allow his knees to weakly give out beneath him. Thor followed, hands steadying upon him.

"I only wanted to protect you; to protect Asgard," Loki said quietly, voice cracking as it all overflowed and he couldn't stop it, "I swear to you. That is all it began as before – that is why I came to you before the ceremony to tell you that – I _swear_ this to you."

"Tell me, Loki," He said, "Tell me _everything_."

From the beginning, Loki did.

* * *

The door to the washroom clicked shut and Thor's shoulders sagged as he fell against the wall beside it. He was drained in a way that he'd never been before. His heart ached for his brother, and his mind berated him for his foolishness. Honesty was something rarely found between them, and Thor had, for many centuries now, been able to pick through his brother's words and find the truths and the lies. He would never point them out, but rather hold them close to his heart. Loki was adept at manipulating without lies as well, and was quick to deflect or avoid help in any and all matters. The only reason he delved into the healing arts in the first place was to keep away from the Healing Room. Showing weakness was simply not something that Loki does. He should have seen, but Loki was right; he'd not wanted to.

It was not that he just wanted things to be back to the way they were, he wanted his brother to be _well_. He wanted so badly for his brother to be free of all that had happened, that he had believed he'd never been in pain in the first place. That he had never been so tortured and angry that he had turned his wrath upon him and Midgard.

As the truths flowed, Thor could see Loki's shame and anger. He saw this as weakness, to have fallen so far, and he was ashamed of all that had happened. Mostly, though, Loki had not wanted _Thor_ to be ashamed, or to be hurt by all that his brother had done. Thor will admit that he was hurt. It hurt that his brother had truly hated him for a time, that he had truly wished death upon him, and suffering on the Midgard that he had become fond of. But these were all things that he had slowly come to terms with in those months on Asgard, hoping and hoping to help his brother heal. Loki had been hurting in a way that he desperately wanted to fix and when he thought that his brother had not truly been in so much pain, he was so relieved that he grabbed hold of it like a lifeline.

But, Loki was still hurting, no matter how he was now fighting it.

"_It is a sickness, this darkness inside me. It has built and built, but only now am I so aware of it."_

Thor hurt, too. But, in a different way. In a helpless way. Loki's torment ran deep; he spoke of things that Thor could hardly understand. Of shadowed corners in his mind, of cracks and horrors and long, long falls through nothingness. They were in places that Thor feared he could not reach.

But, he would try.

He fought back every flinch as Loki digressed into anger and scathing insult, because eventually Loki would catch himself and turn away, ashamed. All the anger and pain was still there, simmering beneath the surface, and Thor berates himself for being so blind to it, for not seeing it hiding there, too distracted and too willing to believe that all was well. But, Norns Loki _was_ trying, and that gave him hope beyond belief. Loki was trying to heal, to be free of the lingering resentment, and make amends for all that had happened.

The way he described that void and Thanos' whispers, though. The Mad Titan may not have used Soul to ensnare his brother, but Loki had been just as helpless to resisting his influence, Thor thought. Loki was confused, and angry, and betrayed and it must have been a simple thing to prey upon that for Thanos. He was terrified as he fell through that abyss and Thanos gave him something to cling to; fostered all these ill thoughts in Loki's mind.

Thor could not feel shame for what his brother had done; not knowing what had brought him there. The terrible fate that he had endured.

No. There was only anger.

Thanos had twisted and tortured his already lost and hurt brother into his _weapon_ to turn upon the Nine Realms, and Thor felt only a deep desire to rip the creature's head from his shoulders. Thor knew that his coddling would not be appreciated, that though Loki had given him truth, he was still Loki and he would still try to face this himself; only allowing himself to lean on Thor if he truly _must_. And Thor would be there, be whatever Loki needed, but he knew better than to push. What Thor could offer him was a _promise_. A promise that Thanos would suffer doubly for what he had done to his little brother.

Thor smiled thinly.

"_I suppose you could have what is left when I am through with him."_

In all that had happened in Asgard, there was a more stinging, more personal and fearful turn to his brother's words. He staggered in his explanation, because it was more _there_ than what had followed. There was a more tangible feel to his pain, rather than the haze of anger that had fallen over him at Thanos' manipulation. It was more real, more _Loki's_. And it had started as innocently as anything the Trickster might do.

Thor was not ready.

Fear for Asgard, fear for Thor, frustration with their father's blindness despite Loki's attempts to dissuade him from crowning Thor king. He had, in a sort of desperation, let the Jötunn into Asgard in order to protect.

"_You are my brother and my friend. **Sometimes**, I am envious; but, never doubt that I love you."_

Thor understood his brother's reasoning for coming to him before the ceremony with a great amount of clarity, now. Thor was glad for his brother's rather rash actions, but with what they further led to...

Thor could not put the blame upon Loki for the end result. It was he who had been so petty, so arrogant, and so bloodthirsty that he took the first excuse to attack. If he had not done that, if they had not stayed and fought, Loki may never have found out what he was. Thor may never have been banished.

"_I want to hate what happened. I want to hate **you** for it. But you never would have learned if that had not happened, so I can hold it back."_

Loki had, in a way, wished to remain ignorant to his nature. In this, he was bitterly torn by their father's deception. But, in the end, he would not feel that way had they not grown up as they did; told terrible tales of the Frost Giants. Told how terrible and monstrous they were. Their father was the most tempered in this; he would speak often of the treaty with Laufey, and would give no insult, but would make no move to dissuade their growing contempt for the Jötnar. All the Æsir in Asgard called Frost Giants monsters, and they have always treated them as such.

It was no surprise that Loki was so disturbed, so desperate upon learning the truth. Loki told of how his terrible plan formed. Trick Laufey into Asgard and then kill him in defense of Odin. Then use the Bifröst to end the Frost Giants once and for all. Prove himself Æsir. Prove that he is just as worthy a Son of Odin as Thor. It had all already begun to spiral out of control when their friends, fearing Loki, came to him on Midgard. Loki felt betrayed yet again. They would ruin everything. Thor would ruin _everything_.

Thor had gathered Loki in his arms then, despite his little brother's protests.

Loki did not apologize, though. Throughout this all, he did not apologize.

Thor didn't expect him to, really.

That was alright, though. Thor would be here for him to lean upon, and he would ensure that Loki slept and ate properly and was as well as he could be. And he would endeavor to not be distracted by Lady Jane when his brother needed him more. Thor huffed lightly.

"_That was... that was the **plan**, actually."_

The door clicked open beside him, and Thor stood immediately, smiling at Loki as he stepped out, dressed and looking far less tired and worn than he had when he'd gone in. Loki's eyes were soft upon him, and Thor's smile brightened. It may hurt. It may be confusing. It may anger him. But, he was only happy to be there for his brother to lean on in any way he needed. He seemed lighter in a way, perhaps it was in his being honest.

Loki took hold of his arm then, before tearing them away from the plane. Surprised, Thor held his breath and shut his eyes, as he always did to combat the dizziness brought on by his brother's favored way of travel.

"Can you not walk _anywhere_, brother?" Thor whined as the world stopped spinning.

He opened his eyes to find himself standing in the top floor room with the bar and couches and balcony and that contraption that removes the Man of Iron's suit, with the rising sun bathing the place in orange light. Loki's mouth was twisted into a smirk and his eyes glittered as he put a hand to his chin, giving a pretend noise of pondering.

"Not really," He said with a short shake of his head.

Loki's hand dropped from his arm, brushing down his side as he did so and then stepped away. Immediately noticing the change, Thor dug a hand in his pocket to confirm what he already knew. Quickly moving forward, he reached out to take hold of Loki's arm, and was, admittedly, unsurprised to find it pass straight through. The illusion faded away into wisps of light and Thor looked up to see his brother leaning on the door leading outside holding the Mind Gem between his middle and forefinger. With a sigh he stepped forward, holding out his hand.

"Give it here, Loki," He said.

Though with the way Loki's eyes glinted he doubted that happening in the near future. It seemed that Loki had moved entirely from 'open' to 'forget this ever happened and act as though it never had'. It was a transition that Loki made almost too easily. Shutting things away in distant corners and pretending that they weren't there seemed to be a particular talent of his.

One that had led to it all erupting rather spectacularly.

"Perhaps later," Loki said, pushing the door open, "I've something I must check on at present."

"What is it?" Thor asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

Loki paused, as though mulling over something in his mind, before coming to a decision and speaking.

"Home."

* * *

As Asgard materialized around him, Loki took a moment to relish in the familiarity of it all. The high ceiling and golden statues and pillars lined the hall extravagantly. He felt himself flicker slightly, and frowned. Odin had certainly been busy; Loki had had much trouble finding a way to project through the wards surrounding the Realm Eternal. He shook off the last of his unease after what he had told his brother, that he had started to pick away while in the shower. It was remarkable, really, how soothing it was to know that Thor knew it all. He was surprised and a little pleased to find that he had actually underestimated his brother. He felt a great weight lifted off of him with the truth. It was unfamiliar to him to feel more relieved in honesty than in his lies. He had never, until now, felt _guilt_ over deception.

He'll admit that Thor's promise of violence upon Thanos was a little comforting, and it let him remember that for all his recent insight, Thor was a warrior and still, in many ways, the Æsir Loki remembered from their childhood. But, that is all he can really take for now. There were more important things happening, that needed to be dealt with. Thanos was a creature always scheming, always planning. He'd broken into Asgard and stolen the Tesseract, an issue they have been dealing with on Midgard's end nonstop since the discovery of it. Busy enough with that, Loki hadn't the time nor the energy to look into how and when this happened, or if the Gauntlet was still safe.

There was a dread part of him that highly doubted it.

Seeing the lack of life in the outside courtyard, Loki realized that he had come during court. He quickly made his way to the throne room, taking measures to mask his presence. As he stepped in, he noticed that he had assumed correctly. A crowd of Æsir was gathered inside and Loki weaved his way to the front, slinking up to the side of the raised dais where the All-Father sat on his golden throne. Odin sat, listening thoughtfully as an Æsir spoke a request to the king. Frigga stood, poised and kind to his side, and Loki's heart skipped a little. He hadn't spoken to his mother (His _mother_. Perhaps the only one he had never stopped thinking of as family) since that terrible day that he fell from the Bifröst. He had refused her when she came to see him in his mockery of imprisonment, and did not see her before they left.

Loki stepped up to an ornate pillar just off to the side, walking around it with his fingers lightly brushing the surface to where he was in good line of sight of Odin. He molded his illusion slightly and then poked at the All-Father's senses. Odin's eye turned to him then, and Loki held his gaze with his back straight and face set. Odin nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly and Loki replied in kind and then turned, walking quickly to the side door that led behind the throne room.

The room was draped in deep red fabrics that remained still as he swept past them, undisturbed by his spectral presence. Knowing there would be time before Odin arrived, his mind began to wander, and he could not quite stop it.

Thor knew.

He knew it all.

Strangely, that was alright.

In the mess of his spilling truth after truth from his lips he had completely patched up his arm and when he had fled to the washroom, the subject had not been dragged up or pushed. Thankfully, Thor had decided that it was enough for now. Loki had no doubt that it would be brought up again (By what means, Loki had decided not to think upon). Thor had offered words of comfort and reassurance, but Loki was little swayed by his brother's naïve notions. He didn't try to pretend that he was, either. Thor had insisted, but Loki shut him down easily enough. Thor was displeased, and sad-eyed, but did not push.

Loki felt only a little bad for it. Thor had opened himself to this, offered his shoulder to lean on and Loki was too tired not to. It was all enough. It was too exhausting to keep it all up, especially after all that had happened over a day ago, and still find energy to fight Thanos. He was done.

Footsteps echoed quickly from around the corridor and Loki furrowed a brow. That was not Odin. As soon as he realized who it was, his illusion faltered completely. Frigga stood in the doorway, looking at him with red eyes, one hand grasping at the fabric of her dress. Loki's heart clenched painfully at the sight of her. Her steps were quick as she closed the distance between them. Her arms spread open, but she halted just a few feet away from Loki, arms falling back to her sides slowly.

"You are not really here, are you?" His mother asked sadly.

Loki gave a hesitant smile, but it wouldn't hold and fell as he shook his head. He reached up a hand to her cheek. His form crackled slightly at the edge as it brushed her face. She smiled at him and brought up her hand to the touch the back of his projected one. He left his hand drop, and it slid through hers like air.

"Loki..." She said quietly, smiling both sadly and happily at the same time, "I am so glad to see you. Oh, but you look so tired; are you well?"

"I am fine, mother," Loki said, breath only catching a little over the word. Frigga's smile brightened, "Just a little busy. Worry not; I fear Thor has now taken it upon himself to coddle me."

If at all possible, his mother's smile grew wider still.

"Oh?" She said with a light laugh, "Well, for the Norns' sake, let him! You're looking entirely too peaky for a mother's taste. Your brother _ought_ to take care of you while I'm not there. I've been sick with worry!"

"My brother will take it entirely over the top," Loki said easily, with a roll of his eyes, "As he does with everything. While I'm on the subject; have you _seen_ his hair recently? How did you let that go on for so long?"

Frigga was blinking away tears at his light tone and Loki had to hold back the urge to put a kiss to her forehead. Heavier, clanging footsteps rang out and Frigga turned slightly to the door. She looked back at Loki smiling softly as her son straightened his back once more and he knew she was holding back the urge to reach out and squeeze his hand reassuringly.

Little good it would do, really.

Odin came to a stop in the doorway, eye trained upon Loki seriously. They stood like that for a long moment, Loki meeting his gaze unfaltering with his chin high and eyes hard. Suddenly, Odin's gaze softened and walked the distance between them with tired steps. Surprised, but not relaxing, Loki tilted slightly at the waist in a minute bow, watching the All-Father's reaction. Not anger at his lack of respect, as he had expected, but what looked like the resisting of an urge to roll his eyes. Loki's eyes narrowed and brow furrowed slightly for a fraction of a second before settling again into indifference as he straightened.

"All-Father," He greeted lowly.

"My son," Odin returned purposefully.

Loki didn't even have to bite back a snarling retort. He was calm here, after his long talk with Thor and his brief conversation with his mother, and though there was a slow resentment for Odin, it was too deeply buried to matter.

"The people seem rather calm," Loki commented, "For all that has happened."

"They trust that they will be protected," Odin said, nodding slightly, "Thanos is a frightening being, but he has been defeated before. The Æsir trust in their king and in Asgard."

"Oh?" Loki said, lips twitching into a thin smile and quirking a brow, "Even with an escaped prisoner, an absentee prince, and a missing Tesseract?"

Odin frowned only slightly and only for a second, but it was enough for Loki's lips to turn into a full mocking smirk.

"Or do they not know what has transpired?" Loki asked, despite the disapproving glance his mother sent him, "Well, I am _sure_ it is for their own good. No need to incite panic."

"Exactly," Odin said with finality in his tone, "I am sure you have come to see how this might have happened, and if the Infinity Gems are still safe."

"I do not imagine I will like my answers," Loki said, "But, yes; that is why I am here."

"And I am not pleased to give them," Odin said, "Heimdall was taken control of by the Soul Gem and the Tesseract stolen. He attempted to take the Gauntlet as well, but the Celestials interfered."

"Celestials do not _interfere_," Loki said, furrowing his brow.

"When the Infinity Gems are involved, they do not fail to," Odin said, "They have separated the Gems among those they find worthy of protecting them."

That will certainly complicate things for Thanos. He was powerful on his own, but Loki was fairly certain that he'd intended to have the Gauntlet by the time the assault on Midgard began and he was done sneaking about in shadows, manipulating from hiding and preparing. War, Death and destruction are what the Titan wanted, and nothing did that better than the full might of the Infinity Gems. He could warp Time, be in any and all Space, trap or take a billion Souls, invade every Mind in the Realm, alter Reality, and all with an unforgiving Power.

Yes, Thanos will want them.

But, then what of the Chitauri? What of their attack?

"I see you are contemplating what this could mean for Midgard," Odin said with a thoughtful expression.

"Well," Loki said in clipped tones, "As you have deigned to leave them to their fate, someone must take up the banner that you have abandoned."

"That I have passed to my sons," Odin corrected sharply, and Loki couldn't keep the slight surprise from his face, "I am not as young or as powerful as I once was. The Nine Realms are simply... too big for me these days. I entrust them to you and your brother."

Loki cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Am I to assume, then, that you _expected_ Thor and I to leave?" He asked.

"I had to know if you were ready," Odin said with a nod, "If you were prepared, and to what lengths you would go to to protect your charge. I was not disappointed."

Loki couldn't quite help the swell of pride either, but kept it from showing. Despite his bitterness toward the All-Father, he still had a need to please him that quite frankly disgusted himself. Thor's pride meant more to him than Odin's; far more.

"I thank you, All-Father," Loki said, bowing the same as he had before (If it was a little deeper, and a little more respectful it was noted by neither father nor son), "For clarification on these matters. I must take my leave, then."

"Wait," Odin said, shaking his head as Loki straightened.

Odin stepped toward Loki and the latter stiffened slightly. The old king raised a hand to Loki's forehead and he felt something tighten within his consciousness, but recognized the magic and did not flinch away. He'd spent much time studying and becoming familiar with this magic, but hadn't imagined he had the power for such delicate and dark works. He was far from unadventurous, and would often make rash risks for the sake of magic, but there were a few things that were better left untouched. This was one of them.

Soul magics were very tricky business, after all, and it was best that one did not delve too deeply into them. Even the most powerful sorcerer in the Nine Realms, though confident in success, has come across things too risky to attempt. He allowed himself to be heartened just a little, that Odin would be so willing to delve into such dark things to cast protection upon him.

"You recognize it, do you not?" Odin asked, but then chuckled as his hand fell, weary as using such exhausting magic, "Of course you do. Even though you were _expressly_ forbidden from learning of it. It is good that you have an innate inability to listen to me, then. I'm sure you understand how necessary it might become for you to use such magic to protect your allies."

Loki tightened his jaw, glancing away, feeling far too much like a chastised child.

"I've not the power to-"

"Yes, you do," Odin interrupted quietly.

Loki was silent for a moment, glancing over at his mother who crossed her arms and shook her head at him with a smile. His lips quirked up slightly.

"Yes, I do," he conceded.

"Then you should have, already," Odin scolded, but the softness of his eyes gave away his lack of any real anger, "Go, then. I'll not say that I trust you and love you and am so very proud of you, because I know you do not wish to hear it."

Loki gave him a dry glare, to which the All-Father's eyes only shone with delight. Frigga came quickly to him and reached up, likely to brush imaginary dust off of his overcoat, but remembered his lack of corporeality and drew her hands back clasping them together to keep them from movement.

"Be careful, Loki," she said, "Remember that I love you, and that I worry, so you _must_ take care of yourself – and your brother. He may try to take care of you but we both know which has always taken care of the other. Give him my love."

"Of course, mother," Loki said, smiling softly for her.

He turned and gave a final nod to Odin.

"All-Father," he said.

Odin looked as if he were about to comment on the address, but a sad look passed over his face and settled into a sort of resignation and he only nodded in return. Loki closed his eyes and focused on Midgard, on his body and on his brother whom he sensed not far away, but then stopped as an idea popped into his head. His mouth curled devilishly as he turned and focused elsewhere.

What fun was being careful, anyway?

* * *

The Other cowered back, head bowed before the creature standing tall and imposing in front of him. Thanos whirled upon him.

"Foiled in Asgard by Celestial interference," He hissed, "A minor setback. I will find the Gems as I once did before; but _you_..."

The Other gasped for breath, arms flying out for purchase and finding nothing, as he felt a great pressure within him. The Soul Gem glittered in Thanos' hand, and The Other was helpless as he writhed in the pain of its grasp; not quite control, not quite imprisonment, but a vicious pull on everything inside him.

"You promised destruction," Thanos growled on, "You promised a world on its knees. And your people cannot even fend off one Jötunn _runt_ of a princeling!"

The Other scrambled for words through the haze of agony.

"My Lord! He... he is _powerful_," he rasped, "Let... let us hun-" he pulled in a sharp breath "-hunt him! Properly! Let... let us end the wretch!"

"No-" Thanos said, suddenly and the pressure was released. The Other fell to his knees bracing himself against the ground, and Thanos repeated, "No."

"My lord?" The Other questioned tentatively.

"You have worn out your usefulness as an independent," Thanos said darkly, and suddenly the pressure was back in an entirely different way, "Your army will serve me well enough, but you have proved your worthlessness in commanding them. I gave you a simple order; be prepared to wage war on the mortals. Your bumbling attempt at strategy has cost you half an army."

The Other stood, calm and dull-eyed, looking up at his master.

"Ah, but that is so much better," Thanos said with a chilling smile, "You will send out as many as you can spare of your... _army_ across all the Realms to search for traces of the Infinity Gems."

"Yes, my lord," The Other said evenly.

"Good, we have an understanding, then," Thanos said, turning his back to The Other, "Even a whisper, and you will send word to me. It seems that doing things for myself is the only way they will get done. I will handle the Asgardians."

"Yes, my lord."

Footsteps echoed away and Thanos stood, staring out over the wide expanse of space that spread out from the barren rock.

"Pesky, pesky sorcerers," He muttered, turning the glittering green Soul in his hand, "I do hope you are not too attached to your free will, princeling. I made the mistake of letting you keep it once; I won't do the same, again. Though, I must commend you for making this a challenge for me. Unfortunately, you have worn out your novelty."

"What a shame. Oh, and I do wish you luck with that."

"I will admit to having underestimated you, princeling," Thanos said without turning to face the figure that had materialized behind him, "I thought that, surely, after your failure on Midgard that you were not even worth the effort of hunting down. I did not even bother to halt your escape from Asgard. I thought that all you might offer is a smile from my mistress."

"My, but that sounds rather _boring_," Loki drawled, "It was not skill or cunning or power that I lacked."

"What was it then, that you _lacked_, that led to your failure?" Thanos asked.

Loki only smiled thinly.

"You seem rather confident," Thanos said, eyes flashing dangerously as he turned, "For all that happened when last you were here. Foolish."

"You and I both know what happened when last I was here," Loki said with a shrug, "You attempted, and _failed_, to tear my consciousness from its link to my body. If it is any consolation it did _sting_ a little."

Thanos scowled darkly.

"Oh, yes, I figured out exactly what you were trying to do," Loki said with a widening grin, "Were you surprised to have failed so spectacularly?"

"I had you," Thanos hissed.

"You never had a chance," Loki mocked.

Thanos drew back, looking at the Jötunn contemplatively.

"What, then, brings you here, _Liesmith_?" Thanos asked, still twirling the gem in his hand poking at the barriers that surrounded Loki and aware of another distinct presence in the distance through him. It felt vaguely familiar, like that same presence that steadied the Jötunn before and pulled him from his grip.

"Just a bit of fun, really," Loki said, smiling, "So, the Celestials have separated the Gems, hm? How unfortunate for you. And how _demeaning_ for The Other and his Chitauri to be demoted to distraction and precursor."

"I will find them," Thanos growled, "And I will raze your Nine Realms in Her name."

Loki's eyes glinted with mirth, and his smile twisted cruelly.

"Not if I find them first."

Thanos' eyes narrowed darkly, shining against the void.

"You would have made a fine ally, as you are," He said, "But, your cunning and power would be just as much a danger as an asset. Such a shame that you will not obey me without coercion."

"I would very much like to see you try," Loki said with a flourishing bow.

Thanos grinned and reached out with Soul. Loki staggered as the Gem beat against his barriers, but that second presence rose up and surrounded the Prince, and he steadied himself.

With a grin, he vanished.

Thanos' furious yell tore through the cosmos.

* * *

Loki opened his eyes to the sun a good deal higher in the sky from when he first sat to project. He noticed the pressure on his arm that he had felt through the cosmos, that let him right himself and pull back to his body so easily after Thanos' attempts against the All-Father's binding, and turned his head to the right. He blinked in surprise as he found himself facing Tony Stark, who sat to his side with a hand gripping his arm.

"Do we not remember what happened last time you did this?" Tony deadpanned, "I swear you're out to give me a heart attack."

"My," Loki said, lips curling into a mocking smile, "Do not get too worried; I might actually think you _care_."

"Maybe you should," Tony said shortly, and stood, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and walking toward the door, "Come on, Sleeping Beauty. I think Fury was just about ready to bust down your door, Thor's growling at anyone who dared try to disturb you or no."

How curious, Loki thought. Though the man had shown a great amount of interest in everything that had happened, and had continually urged him to tell Thor the truth. Perhaps, then, it _was_ concern, after all. The mortal's interest was confusing, to say the least. Fascinating to say the most. It made Loki curious about what brought it on; what makes Tony Stark so intent on seeing something, that is decidedly _not_ his business, through.

"Now," Loki tutted, "I've conceded to calling you Tony. Do you not think the favor ought to be returned? I quite tire of your ridiculous addresses. The horns on my helmet are not even reindeer-like. They are more akin to a Satyr."

Tony turned as Loki stood and brushed himself off, despite the lack of any collection of dirt on his person, giving him a half smile.

"Are you coming, or what, _Loki_?" Tony said before striding inside where his brother stood waiting with a smile threatening to take over his face.

Loki smiled slightly to himself, looking out over the city briefly that teemed with life even so early in the morning. He could actually do with a meeting right about now. New things to share, and whatnot. With a search for the Infinity Gems before Thanos might get his hands on them looming before him, and the impending (rather half-hearted, now) war just around the corner, he would need a bit of a pick-me-up. The search will be dull until he actually found something (he has a few ideas on the '_who_'s of it all) and the war unexciting in its beginnings (a good thing, really). As Loki turned to follow the mortal he found himself rather...

_Bored_, really.

* * *

A/N:

Sif: I feel a disturbance in the force.

Fandral: What? What is it?

Sif: Oh no.

Volstagg: For the love of all things delicious, spit it out, woman!

Sif: [SHUDDERS] Loki's... _bored_.

Fandral: Norns have mercy.

I think I need to go eat something salty to get that sweet taste out of my mouth from around the middle there. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And that I handled the truth well enough. I was struggling a little, because I myself have issues with telling people important things and leaning on people, which I think might be something Loki shares. Every time I felt he needed to just start spilling his guts there was this thing that was like 'NUH-UH' so I tried to convey that as best I could and only really finally let him cave when he was backed into a corner. Even as raw as he's feeling right about now after what happened last chapter, I felt he would still be guarding himself and trying to keep it back, but, in the end, unable to. I hope you liked how I did this =) REVIEW PLEASE.

It has also come to my attention that someone linked to me on tumblr and that's why I now have...

OVER A HUNDRED AND TWENTY REVIEWS.

I am beyond flattered, really. Like, WOW. To vc-ness on tumblr; you have my eternal gratitude and awe. I'm honored by your glowing recommendation. Thank you so much; ALL of you wonderfully nice reviewers.

Also: Did I say something BAD was going to happen to Loki when someone asked me for a spoiler? Did... did I _lie_?

Pro tip for free: Ask for spoilers, get lies.

-Siva

EDIT: Oh no. The doubt is bubbling up. I'm editing a new version of this. Ease my worries or I'm replacing this with it.

EDIT 2: I CHANGED IT AND GOD DO I FEEL BETTER.


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: I'll just leave this right here. *flees*

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel's Avengers, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, or Incredible Hulk.**

* * *

Conviction

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

Loki was fidgeting.

Tony didn't really know what this meant, but something told him that it didn't bode well. Loki's fingers drummed rhythmically on the table as he spoke with a smirk tugging at his lips, and Tony realized (rather belatedly given how much contact he'd had with the god recently) that Loki was a very tactile person. When working in the lab over the last several days, he always had something in hand, or a spell at his fingertips. He was a lot like Tony, in that way. Even if there was no real coherent thought to it, he was constantly tinkering. Now, they had finished their project and Tony was feeling a little fidgety himself. Usually when he got like this he would shut himself in his lab and make modifications and improvements to the suit or some other thing (Right! AC Prototype. Gotta see if that survived Loki) or go out, get shitfaced and come home with a gorgeous pair of legs.

The former more than the latter, of late. Shame, really.

Really, it boils down, in a way, to a need to be occupied; to use his hands. To work or create or to take pleasure. It was a constant need, and when not being served he got fidgety. Now, Loki was the God of Mischief, Lies, and Trickery. There was little guessing to be done on what, exactly, he did to occupy himself. Tony Stark didn't get nervous. This was not nervous, and his eyes didn't dart to those fingers every time they stuttered in their rhythm to deviate in some way with the occasional wisp of low light flickering off of them. He wasn't nervous. He was prepared.

Tony looked over at the warrior woman, whose eyes darted between Loki's hand and his face with sharp wariness as the god relayed what he'd gathered from Asgard in a distracted sort of way. _That_ was nervous. And, just because Tony was doing the same thing, did _not_ mean that _he_ was nervous.

No, this did not bode well.

But, it had to be better than what it _was_. The memory of seared flesh was still fresh in his mind, and he had to suppress a shudder at the thought of it. Defeat, a simmering anger just beneath the surface, helplessness, desperation, hysteria, and all those other things from the day before (the day before that?) were now locked tightly behind the steel wall of Loki's face. Looking, Tony couldn't see a trace of them, but those aren't things that just go away. No, they were there, buried somewhere, Tony knew that much.

"So," Fury ground out, breaking his train of thought, "You're telling me that a full-scale assault of an advanced alien race against the entire world _isn't_ the biggest of our problems?"

"Oh, it would have been," Loki mused shortly, beginning to tap his fingers in a rhythm oddly familiar, but that he could not place, "If the Celestials hadn't interfered as they had. He would have all the Gems save Mind and the attack would have been ruthless and neigh impossible to stop. His 'invasion' is to sew panic and terror and destruction on a global scale. But, he himself is the centerpiece. It is _his_ power that would bring Midgard to its knees."

"So, he's, what?" Fury asked, "Going to use this attack to just hold us in a state of disorder and war while he gathers the pieces he needs to crush us?"

"Precisely," Loki said, his fingers pausing in their motion, tutting against the table firmly and staying there, "And we are not going to let him."

"Elaborate," Fury demanded.

The drumming began again, and Loki's smirk curled wider.

"Simple, really," He said with a lightly condescending look that made the vein in Fury's temple pulse just a little, "We are going to find the Gems before he does, and make sure he does not get his hands on them. Yes, he is powerful without them, but, not so great as to be invincible. It is how he was defeated before. Without the gauntlet, as he is now, he is... almost fragile, in a way. And given the opportunity we will not be so foolish as Bor."

Thor's gaze turned somewhat troubled at Loki's last words, which made Tony contemplate them just a little longer than he might have. When Thanos had first been explained, the name Bor had come up. He was the one to strip Thanos of his power and banish him into the void where he stewed for tens of thousands of years and, evidently, plotted his revenge. Clearly, that hadn't been the right call, and Tony was a little confused as to why Thor would be upset to hear that Loki planned to end the threat of Thanos once and for all.

"Then why don't we just take the fight to him, now?" Clint cut in, "You know where he is, don't you? We go there, kick his ass, and come home."

"Ah, my dear little Hawk," Loki said and Clint looked just about ready to climb over the table and introduce the god to his right hook, "You forget that he has the Soul Gem, already, and is surrounded by legions of Chitauri even when he _is_ where I have come to find him. I can protect you from Soul – a magic I have been practicing since I loosed its hold on myself – but the Chitauri are not to be taken lightly, and I could not, I think, take enough people across the Nine Realms to, as one might say, 'nip this in the bud'. Thanos is not unintelligent, either; far from it. He will not sit idle if he does, indeed, fell threatened. He knows when to retreat, and with the Tesseract, moving himself and his army will be simple, if inconvenient."

"So our best course of action," Steve said ponderously, "Is to intercept him while _he's_ looking for the Gems, or to lure him to _us_ with them."

Loki's eyes glinted slightly with surprise and approval.

"Well put," he said with a slight tilt of his head toward Steve. His fingers drummed once more, sharper against the table before he stood suddenly.

"We're not done, here," Fury said, putting his palms on the table and standing as well, staring Loki down, "Sit back down, Odinson."

"I rather think we are," Loki said, matter of fact, "We've but days before the army comes and that is frankly your only concern at present. _I_ will find the Gems and keep an eye on Thanos' Chitauri feelers. A dull task, really, and one in which assistance is unnecessary."

"Alone?" Thor asked, standing indignantly, "I think not. Tell me how to assist and I will."

Loki barked a laugh.

"Alone? No, no, no," Loki said with a wave of his hand, "No need to worry about it Thor."

Thor frowned and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I may need assistance," Loki said, "In retrieving the Gems, though, and, of course, if we might find Thanos en route to one of them."

"Then you'll have it," Steve asserted.

There was an instantaneous shift of mood as all the Æsir turned their gaze to the Captain. Steve's brow furrowed at the attention and Fury's jaw tensed. A lightly sheepish, and chastising feel came from the warriors, and Tony sort of knew where this was going. Thor began diplomatically.

"You must understand," He said, "No mortal has set foot outside of their own Realm. It is not..."

"And, why not?" Loki interrupted, "They are formidable. Their assistance may be necessary. Come now, Thor, don't tell me you've essentially committed treason by breaking a prisoner out of Asgard and abandoning her as Prince and are _now_ going to be cowed by Odin's little _rule_."

"_Law_," Sif corrected.

"Details," Loki said with a wave of his hand and Sif rolled her eyes.

"What law?" Tony cut in.

"No mortal is allowed passage among the Nine Realms," Thor said, "It is a _law_ that is in place for a reason."

"A reason that has been proven out of date," Loki said, crossing his arms over his chest, "They are ready."

"The penalty-"

"Then it is a good thing that I am a fugitive, already; or have you forgotten that?" Loki snapped, "I've little concern for laws at this point, Thor."

"Brother!" Thor shouted, standing, "Do not say such things!"

"I thought you _wanted_ honesty," Loki said innocently.

"Ladies, ladies!" Tony interrupted, standing and clapping his hands sharply to catch their attention, "You're both pretty. _We're_ not gonna sit here and let you Asgard folk have all the fun."

"In case you forgot, you'll be a little busy," Fury ground out, "Something we need to talk about. If you'd both _sit down_."

"Yeah, war," Tony said, waving a hand, "You wanna get on the public about that? Because, what happened _last_ time you thought the situation could be brought under control before it escalated? No one knew what the fuck was going on, a sizable fraction of Manhattan was leveled and hundreds of people died."

He almost tagged on a 'No offense, Rudolf', but his brain to mouth filter kicked in around that point.

"No offense, Rudolf."

Oh, right. He didn't have a brain to mouth filter. Loki gave him a scathing glare that was just dark enough that Tony couldn't even muster up a wicked grin in response. The drumming of his fingers started up again, this time tapping on his arm, and Sif spoke up.

"Is there nothing else that needs to be done in the meantime?" She asked, almost too quickly.

Loki's lips curled almost devilishly, in a way that positively _promised_ trouble.

"This discussion still is not over," Thor interrupted.

"Again," Loki said, waving a hand and turning toward the door, "I think it is. We are not acting as Princes of Asgard, Thor. We are acting as the defenders of the Nine Realms. Allowances must be made. Odin will understand or he won't; I care not. He has already allowed much. If you'll excuse me."

"Now, wait just a-"

Fury was ignored as the door slipped shut behind Loki almost silently and Thor looked at it with a troubled expression. Fury scowled darkly.

"Well," Bruce said slowly, "He seems a lot less... friendly, today."

"Arrogant son of a-"

"Hold your tongue!"

Tony turned to the blonde warrior, who had stood, slamming a hand on the table with the motion and words. Tony hadn't had much opportunity to talk to him, but he seemed to be a generally good and cheerful man. He spent the vast majority of his time sparring with the other Asgardians, flirting with Sif (Not Natasha. Not after the first time.), or dogging the heels of one or both of the princes. At first Tony was surprised at the outburst, but after a second of thought, realized that he should have seen it coming.

It was maybe even stranger to think of Loki as a prince than it was to think of him as a god. And, he was _their_ prince.

"Loki is a friend, and prince, you'll take care how you speak," Fandral said, back straight and chin high.

Thor stood and fled from the room after his brother with a nod to Fandral. Tony pushed away from the table because of that thing that killed the cat.

"Sit down, Stark," Fury growled.

"I thought we were done," Tony said, jerking a thumb toward to door to indicate Loki's dismissal of them.

"We're done when I say we're done; not Loki," Fury ground out.

Fandral made to speak again, but Sif landed a warning hand on his arm and he returned to his seat, thought she glared just as fiercely at the Director. Clint was glaring at Tony, which is the only reason he raised his hands innocently and sat back down, because Fury didn't intimidate him, but he actually gave a shit about Barton.

"Captain," Fury said, and Steve sat a little straighter, "You're going to help us get people informed."

"Of course, sir," Steve said, nodding, then looked as if he was going to say something more, but appeared to think better of it.

"What is it, Rogers?" Fury asked, noticing.

Steve paused, eyes darting around the table, lingering on Sif's steely expression, Fandral's slightly pouting simmering, Volstagg's light fidgeting and Hogun's blank stare, before his eyes hardened and turned back to Fury.

"With all due respect, sir," He said, resolutely, "Maybe you could be a little less harsh with Loki. You saw him when he got back; we all did. He was hardly aware of a thing around him and he passed out for almost twenty-four hours. What he did, he did at the expense of himself, and the benefit of the world. I don't know about you, but he's earned my respect."

Fury sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. The action took Tony by surprise. He'd seen Fury exasperated and tired (It was usually Tony's fault), and this expression was a mixture of the two and one he'd seen before.

"He has my respect," Fury said finally, "And, God help us, some of my trust, too. But, this is our world, Captain. He can't just walk in, expect us to do exactly what he says, then walk out. That's not the way a team works."

"Sometimes," Sif said, solemnly, "That is the way a kingdom works. Sometimes, you must follow your prince's command without question; with nothing but loyalty."

"Well, this isn't Asgard," Fury said, straightening, "And, he isn't my prince. I understand that he's your prince, and I have nothing but respect for your people, but here, things need to be done differently."

Sif nodded in understanding.

"Aye," She conceded, "You speak true. This is not our world, our people withdrew from it long ago. And... well, I'll be the first to tell you that Loki and Thor need a slap of humility from time to time, but please do not needlessly antagonize him."

"I won't," Fury said, with a nod, "I said he's got my respect. That doesn't mean I won't give him a hard time when I have to, but, especially in this situation, we can't afford to piss anyone off."

"So," Tony said, trying to cut through the tension in the room left by Clint's stiff shoulders, Natasha's blank gaze and traded words, "_Now_ are we done?"

Fury's expression twisted into annoyance as his one eye fixed on Tony.

"We're done," He said, "For now. I want to know more about the situation by the time we bring this before the UN. Rogers, Barton, and Romanoff; stay a bit."

Tony was out of his seat and out the door faster than anyone and the door shut behind him with a loud bang. Looking either way down the hall he debated.

"Eenie, meenie, minie, moe," He mused, finger pointing left and right on each word, "Catch a god or two by the hair. If they choke you let 'em go. Frigga said to pick the very best one and Loki is a dick-"

"They went left, sir," JARVIS supplied sounding amused and condescending.

"Killjoy," Tony scolded as he turned left.

Tony thinks that if JARVIS had eyes, he would roll them. He turned the corner as he heard the door open again. Someone called his name, Bruce, Tony thought, but, he ignored him and kept on.

"-talk about this."

"There are more important things to worry about right now, Thor."

"There is nothing more important than you."

Loki seemed a bit struck speechless by that, because it was silent for a moment, before suddenly metal clacked and scraped against the floor and with a stutter in his heartbeat, Tony realized that Loki had turned on his heel and likely in the direction he himself was.

"Loki..."

"We've company," Loki said sharply, and suddenly he was sweeping around the corner and Tony felt a bit like a deer in the headlights as he came face to face with the God of Mischief.

"Oh," Tony muttered dumbly, "Hi."

Loki pursed his lips.

"I would speak with you," He said, "But I imagine my brother would have words with you first. I will wait outside your lab."

He vanished from the spot then, and a few feet behind from where he had stood was the God of Thunder with a hand half outstretched as if to stop him and a look on his face akin to a kicked puppy.

"Hey, there, big guy," Tony greeted with a little wave and a half-smile, "Have a good talk with your brother, this morning?"

"Good?" Thor said, eyes tired, "That would depend entirely on how you would classify the word. We talked. Many things have come to light for me. There is honesty between us, now, for which I am both grateful and... troubled. You, Man of Iron. You knew and kept this from me. Why?"

"It wasn't mine to tell," Tony said with a shrug. To his surprise, Thor nodded understandingly.

"Yes," He said, "I suppose not."

"I almost cracked," Tony said, looking away, "Was gonna tell you when we got back from Norway, but... turned out I didn't have to?"

That was about when Thor got all up in his personal space, big hands clasping his shoulders tightly, reminding Tony painfully of the ache in his left shoulder from where Loki had bent the metal of his suit into his skin. Thor gave him a long, serious and thoughtful look before he spoke.

"You have seen much of my brother, these past many days," He said, squeezing Tony's shoulders, "More than I imagine he likes. He has not spoken at length of what happened the other day, nor the assistance you rendered; but it is most appreciated."

Thor's expression turned pained.

"What happened..." He began, grip loosening as he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were hard and piercing once more, "You witnessed my brother at his most broken and you did not abandon him. Thank you."

"Yeah, well," Tony began, suddenly feeling like melting into the wall, "He's done a lot of shit, and he's kind of a dick sometimes, but... I, uh... I believe in him, you know?"

Poor Thor just looked like he was about to cry.

"If e'er he comes to you," Thor said, "Please, do not turn him away. He has shared much with me, and I will be there in whatever way I can; but, I ask that if it is you that he comes to, that you be there as well. You've been a friend, I think."

And, Tony remembered with striking clarity, the sheer pain infused in the word _monster_, and the despairing look on Loki's face as he said it. And, Tony knew that his heart broke just a little for Loki when he heard it. And, Tony knew that Loki had it in him to be the good guy. And, Tony knew that he would help.

"I will," He said, resolutely, and immediately found himself being suffocated as the god embraced him enthusiastically.

"Okay," Tony choked, "Need air."

He was set down and only then realized that he'd been lifted into the air. Taking a generous gulp of oxygen into his lungs he straightened as best he could. Thor was giving him the warmest smile he'd ever seen and it was almost as nauseating as Thor literally _growling_ at anyone getting _near_ Loki's room the past day was frightening. He patted the god awkwardly on the shoulder and then jerked a thumb behind himself.

"Uh, so, apparently Loki's waiting on me downstairs, so..." Tony trailed off, stepping back, "I'll... go."

"Of course," Thor said, nodding approvingly, "Be well, Man of Iron."

"Uh, right," Tony said as he turned and just short of ran down the hall, because that was _weird_.

Yeah; it was sweet and nice to know everything was all out in the air, but it was still weird. Yes, Tony Stark liked to be told how awesome he is on a regular basis; but, genuine gratitude of that proportion? No, sir. Not good at it. So he was feeling a little awkward and the elevator wasn't moving fast enough for him and he told JARVIS to speed it up but the AI just dryly responded that it was going as fast as was safe. Which is _bullshit_, because, _screw_ safe.

When the elevator finally opened, Loki was leaning against the glass door to the lab which was _also_ bullshit. Because, if Loki wanted in that lab, he didn't have to wait on Tony. Which meant something weird like the guy respecting his boundaries, and Tony recalled some sort of conversation about boundaries, but it had digressed into something else about horses and sex (At the same time) and then a very interesting comment that had Tony fleeing to the relative safety of his room.

"So, what did you want?" Tony asked cheerily as he punched in the code and Loki pushed away from the door just in time to not fall back into the lab as it opened.

"Your lab is the most secure part of the building," Loki said, following him as he walked into the lab, "And it is underground, which is ideal, since Midgard's branch of Yggdrasil is buried. It is the most monitored, and the least heavily frequented part of the building. I would like to set up my scrying center here, if you would allow it. I would only need a small corner of the lab."

"Uh..." Tony paused, eying Loki speculatively, "So, you were serious with the... scrying. That's a real thing? To find people?"

Loki tutted.

"Yes, it is real," He said, almost sounding exasperated, as he pulled out a small gleaming circular blue gem, "Though, not for the sole purpose of finding _people_. It uses Yggdrasil's connection with all things to pinpoint certain... signatures, I suppose you could call them. Yggdrasil flows through everyone and everything just a little differently. I should be able to use Mind as a base to find traces of the rest. I've a few specific people, as well, that may have been chosen, to find."

"Alright," Tony said with a shrug, gesturing vaguely around the lab, "Anywhere you need."

"My thanks," Loki said with a thin lipped smile, glancing about speculatively.

Tony brought up the designs for the Mark VIII, beginning to fiddle with them a little as Loki scoped out the lab, eyes darting between him and the schematics.

"So," Tony said, throwing a part of the suit that only God knew why he'd put there in the first place into the trash, "The other day?"

"Tony," Loki warned from somewhere in the lab and his voice was muffled by distance and obstacles when he replied.

"Okay," Tony said, placating, "All right, what about this morning?"

"Thor lauds the bravery and ability of Midgardians," Loki said with a snort, "But Odin's word has always been his staying point, I suppose."

"Clearly not," Tony remarked, "He's here isn't he? Breaking the law and whatnot."

"Then, why would he press this?" Loki asked, and Tony had to fight to not jump, because he was _right there,_ now, somehow, "It is such an insignificant thing. And, to be entirely honest; I am a little curious how a mortal might react to the rest of the Nine Realms."

"Maybe because you'd just been ragging on your grandfather, and now you were digging into your dad, too?" Tony offered with a shrug.

Tony found himself grabbed by the shoulder and spun around rather sharply, his lower back coming in harsh contact with the edge of the table he'd been standing at and Loki's finger pressed firmly on the center of the arc reactor.

"Odin is not my father," Loki snapped.

"Okay," Tony said, raising his hands innocently, trying to ignore the cold terror of someone touching his reactor, "I get that."

"I will be setting up just there," Loki said, stepping away, to which Tony breathed a wonderful sigh of relief, and pointing off to a corner that Tony didn't really care to follow the direction of.

"Go nuts," He said.

"I will return shortly," Loki said, nodding and then vanished in a short flash of light.

Tony stared at the spot for a while, but then his brow furrowed and he looked over at the device they'd spent the last several days building and the projected globe above it.

"JARVIS, how come he didn't show up on the map?" He asked.

"I would assume that it is because he is no longer on Earth, sir," The AI supplied.

"Just like that?" Tony asked, a little breathy, and a little bewildered.

"Just like that, sir."

Tony stared back at the spot where the god had just been standing.

"Open a new file, JARVIS," He said, "Throw in everything from Magic, the scanner and... and this baby," Tony tapped the arc reactor in his chest, thoughts already whirling a mile a minute in his head – no, a hundred miles a minute.

"What shall I name this file, sir?"

Everything began projecting around him, and he snatched an atom of his element out of the air as his eyes flickered over it all, coming to rest on the energy reads of Loki's magic; a fluctuating frequency, remaining always higher than gamma, but also spiking to levels above the Tesseract's.

"Tony Stark's Most Probable Cause of Death," Tony decided, as he lifted the atom to eye level and then left it to float there.

"Shall I rename the file of dates Miss Potts has insisted that you remember, then?"

* * *

Green cloak swayed just above the ground as heels clicked along the darkened road. A gaggle of young elves tittered with heads bowed together, just off to the right outside an apothecary. Their heads lifted as the woman walked by, eyes taking in and judging her soft features, and long raven hair spilling down her back. Curiosity lit in the eyes of one more than the others, and they lingered just a little longer, before tearing away. Recognition. A pair of hooded figures conversed quietly at the edge of a darker alley. They straightened and walked in opposite directions as the woman strode by.

Ruby lips pulled into a smile.

It would not do one good to have all their dealings with their own face (Or what others perceive as one's own face). There was a reason that half the people in this row had hoods or masks that covered half of their faces. When one was a shape-shifter...

That tended to make things exponentially simpler.

Some knew, for one reason or another, the other faces that this one wore. They were discreet. Those who ever attempted to abuse the knowledge no longer breathed. It was incentive enough for the rest. It had been long since she had taken another form, and it felt a little like coming home. Not many understood what it was to be a shape-shifter. Yes, this face, this body, was different, but what resided within never was. This face, this body, it belonged to her. She was no more a woman than she was a man, or a bird, or a dragon, and, yet, she was all of these things. Regardless of what body she wore, it was Loki's.

Loki turned down a low lit alley, a light spring in her step and lips still curved upward in a smile that would not fade.

It had been too _long_.

Boredom was an affliction that had plagued Loki for all her long life, until this past year. Too angry, too insane, or too busy to fall into the old feel of it. The way it curled into her now and tugged at her nerves and made her all but _ache_ for mischief left her jittery and more eager than ever to burn it away. For now. It never lasts. It always comes back. But as it made her twitch and grated on her as it always had, she had never been so happy to be touched by it. She could not _tolerate_ boredom, and yet the feel of it was _missed_. And, so, she found herself sewing discord as she went, ill content with the busywork of gathering things that she would need for scrying and putting all the right whispers in all the right ears. It was satisfying enough, for now, to turn an irritating sorcerer on another with a few choice words, or a subtle flick of magic.

There would be much, much more amusement awaiting her when she returned to Midgard if all went as she had arranged before her departure.

There was only one last thing that she needed to see to, here.

Loki came to a stop before an old and unassuming door in shock as she knew, immediately, that no one was inside. Yet, this perhaps confirmed her suspicion more than it worried her. With a scowl, Loki's good mood faltered. Steps quickly went by behind her, but she turned before they could pass fully and snatched at the collar of a robe. The hood of the startled ælf fell back, as Loki reached out and clamped down on his attempt to teleport away, but as soon as shock passed, his features settled into curiosity, and eyes sharpened as he smiled thinly, deceptively.

"The witch that used to reside here every third day," Loki demanded.

The ælf's smile turned dark.

"The shape-shifter?" He asked smoothly with a tilt of his head, eying Loki's obviously, "She hasn't been around for neigh a year."

"Shape-shifter?" Loki questioned sharply, "I know only of a witch called Angrboða. Who do you speak of?"

"Same as you," the ælf said, drawing up a hand to place gently over top of the one that held his collar in a tight grip, lightly caressing as he smiled, placating, "Gone back where she came from. Járnviðr."

Loki tore her hand away and stepped back and the ælf showed his hands, palms up, innocently.

"You lie," She said, "I would have known."

"I speak only as I have seen and heard," The ælf said, then vanished from the spot.

Troubled, Loki turned her eyes back to the abandoned place where once she conspired and created with a talented witch every third day. She swallowed thickly, because, how could she not have known? A shape-shifter. A-

Loki's expression soured. With a dark scowl and darker thoughts she summoned her magic and tore herself from the city at the edge of Álfheim's fens. Through Yggdrasil she moved swiftly to Járnviðr. The Ironwood. The dwelling of the Troll-wives.

Jötunheim.

Anger. Seething. Unhinged. Her feet touched the frozen ground and she moved, without a care for stealth, as her form shifted back to his more used, reaching out with magic to pull the AC from the pocket of space he'd stuffed it in before he got to Norway, materializing it on his face.

"JARVIS," He barked.

"I am here, sir," the AI's voice spoke into his ear, "Communications unavailable. There is no signal to be found."

Good, then. The device was independent, he would be able to use it without being on Midgard. He allowed a moment to mentally commend Tony.

"We are no longer on Midgard, JARVIS," Loki supplied, "Scan as far as you can. Tell me what you see."

Loki stopped between a few large trees crusted with ice, the cold not bothering him in the least as his body instinctively reached for his cold center for balance. His fingers twitched, but he allowed it. He turned and watched as the screen before his eye read everything around him. Categorizing and cataloging everything seen. A small map began to form and he saw some readings of magnetism flash quickly by and soon after a compass was added to the interface. The map didn't go far, as there was only so much the device could scan.

"Thick wooded trees, growing on frozen ground among other smaller shrubs. It seems as a tundra might, yet the trees grow tall where there ought not be any tree life," JARVIS said, "Small, nonhuman lifeforms are present as well as two much, much larger lifeforms. Scans do not show anything past two miles."

"What direction are the larger creatures?" Loki asked, steely.

"Due south, sir," JARVIS said, "They match most determinants to be wolves. Very large wolves."

Loki turned and headed in the direction, head swimming and teetering dangerously close to the edge. Was there nothing that could go right? He was on honest terms with his brother. He had, with pride and confidence, faced down Thanos with a brazen taunt. He had stood face to face with Odin and not faltered. He was _bored_ and he was _happy_ to be so (This does not happen, should not happen). His mind had contented itself to turning from the darkened corners and the cracks in the walls. It had been as if, with Thor's knowing, the great oaf himself had stepped into the maelstrom of his churning anger and madness and bellowed a great "STOP!" and all fell silent at the command of the king. And _now_-

Now.

Now all these things that had hid themselves away crashed back over him and he was _angry_. That treacherous, deceitful, rune-writing, spell-weaving,_ shape-shifting_, _**Jötunn **_WITCH.

And then he stopped.

Frozen as surely as the ground, he stood there, something clawing at his throat and closing it tight, mind cowering in shame and coldness creeping over him. For every word there used to describe Angrboða also, rather accurately, described Loki. His hand twitched and he became aware of JARVIS' voice in his ear and his head snapped to the side just in time to see what the AI was trying to warn him of. He ducked out of the way as the massive wolf lunged at him, but it brought him straight into the path of the other. Loki bit back a cry as large teeth clamped down on his arm and brought him to his knees. He just about summoned fire to his hand to burn the wolf through the mouth, but stopped himself as the first looked at him with intelligent eyes while the other held him still.

"Your reflexes have dulled," The first wolf grumbled, pacing before Loki.

Loki managed to keep all evidence of pain from his voice as he spoke.

"Where does your lady hide?" Loki demanded, as proudly as he could.

The wolf's maw clamped tighter and Loki could not suppress his shocked and pained gasp, but, again, resisted the urge to burn the insolent creature to ash.

"Mother does not hide," The wolf bit out sharply.

"Ah," Loki said, in feigned understanding, "Of course. What I mean to ask, is where she hides that which has been given to her keeping?"

The wolf paused, and the hold on his arm loosened.

"Mother keeps nothing," The wolf said.

"She has not told you?" Loki asked with false shock, "You, her sons, who love and protect her? She has not told you what it is you now guard along with her person?"

Though, now he was not so sure of whether she truly held one of the Gems or not. It was not recent that she fled the fens upon being discovered, a Jötunn out of Jötunheim. Unheard of. Disallowed since Jötunheim's defeat and loss of the Casket. Cut off from the other Eight, but also protected from war with them, by treaty, until their pride might break and they made amends and peace.

It had been over a thousand years and their pride stayed unbroken.

"The Liesmith lies," The wolf said, sneering, "What great surprise."

Loki scowled.

"Where is Angrboða, then?" He asked, "I would speak with her, as an old friend. If she does not have what I seek, then, there is much that we must discuss."

"So that you might break her apart as you so tried to break apart Jötunheim?" the wolf growled as the teeth of the other dug in again as he rumbled his agreement.

"Sir-"

"Let him go, child, before he loses his amiability and burns off your nose."

"I ought to have, already, witch," Loki hissed as his eyes turned to settle upon her, "Be glad that I have not."

Different, yet, he had no trouble recognizing her. Familiar features on a larger face and under thicker, darker skin. Horns curled like a ram's at her head in place of the luxurious locks that she has under the form he knew. She easily stood at nine feet as she sauntered to her son's side, putting a hand on his neck. The other wolf relinquished its hold on Loki's arm and padded toward the other two giants, maw dripping with Loki's blood. Loki's arm dropped and he curled his bloodied fingers around a fistful of frozen grass as he sent soothing, healing energy to his arm. It only flickered a little, with the strain he'd already put on his magic that day while it was only half restored.

"You seem angry with me, Silver-tongue," Angrboða said casually as she patted her son's muzzle, hand coming away stained with Loki's blood.

Loki managed to keep back the snarl that threatened to bubble forth. He had lost the reason he had first sought her out in Álfheim, here sitting on the ground of the world that abandoned him and he in turn reigned mad, bloody vengeance on, mind swimming with anger and shame, equal. Looking upon a face he knew, yet knew not, chill seeping into his bones from the frozen ground, he realized that there was only one thing he wanted to know and that it had nothing to do with his original purpose.

"Did you know?"

A shape-shifter he may be, any form he takes, his, but at one's center they are always the same. No matter how he shifts, now that he sees it, feels it, he _always_ feels it. A Jötunn can make themselves Æsir, warm their blood and change their skin, but that chill center is still there. Tied off and hidden beneath layers upon layers of lies. Angrboða stepped toward him and knelt down. Her hand drew forward slowly, cautiously, as if he would flinch away (he'll admit that he just might have) and gently her large hand took his chin in a light grip.

Loki felt the wet blood from her hand slide against his skin as her grip sent a chill along his skin. He batted away the sickness that settled in his gut at the feel.

"Did you know?" He repeated, insistent as the cold brushed at his center, trying to coax it from its knot as his skin shifted.

His skin settled, the world just a little brighter and tinged with a light veil of red, and Angrboða looked on him contemplatively. Then, she smiled, a little coldly (she did everything coldly; it was why he had liked her).

"_V__æ__nn_," She said, tilting his head to the side slightly to study further, "You've the markings of Laufey. Aye, Silver-tongue, I knew. We've spent much time exploring one another, studying our connections to Yggdrasil. I have known for some time."

"Why not tell me?" Loki demanded, jerking from her touch and as soon as he did, the cold began to recede.

He stood, drawing up to his full height, eye to eye with the giantess on her knees.

"At first, I thought that you knew," She said, letting her hand fall as she stood and stepped away, "Then, when it became clear that you did not, I suppose that I thought it might not be as pretty a break to watch as it would should I leave the lie to fester. It was rather... spectacular as it happened. I am glad to have been in the fens, able to watch the sky light as Jötunheim crumbled, but safe where I was. I knew it was you the moment it began."

Loki couldn't help the smile that touched his lips. The same.

She was the same. Or was this just explanation for her coldness and cruelties? As his blood might explain how he might be so wretched as he is?

Like that, the subject dropped (he feared for his sanity should it linger), and Loki finished healing his arm, eying the giantess speculatively (_giantess_). Angrboða petted her sons and murmured to them and soon they were bounding away into the trees.

"There is another reason that you have come, Silver-tongue," Angrboða said, turning back to him, "I know what you seek. I was not chosen. I would have 'abused' it, as they see it, I am sure. I know nothing and I will not let you know if I learn anything."

"And why not?" Loki asked.

Angrboða smiled.

"Because they are right," She said.

"And what would buy your assistance?"

There was always a price with Angrboða. Loki forced the anger away, and did not study her features too closely, eyes darting away and back. He'd not seen himself as Jötunn, did he look as she? So different, yet the same? He shook off the thoughts. Vile creature. He would be diplomatic, but no more. He'd placated Jötnar before.

"Oh, I do not know, Silver-tongue," She tutted, "I am rather insulted by you at present."

"Why... what have I done?" Loki questioned.

"You went to that Ælf, and not I," She said simply, eyes glinting.

"My dear," Loki cooed, "She intercepted me before I even might have made it to the fens. And to arrive, magic bound and tailed by five Æsir warriors, one the Prince of Asgard? I'd not have made it out of that den of wolves alive. Do not take it as insult, my lady. You would have been one of those eager for my throat, we'd not have had a chance against you. I'd not have found you there, either way, so it seems."

"What flattery for a Jötunn, little prince," Angrboða said passively, but her eyes shone with delight, despite her knowing him as the more diplomatic son of Odin, that would flatter a cow as easily as an ælf, "Perhaps there is one thing that you might grant me that would convince me to help."

"You need only name it," Loki said, sweeping in a low bow.

"The Casket."

Loki straightened in a heartbeat, eyes hardening, tongue quick and sharp.

"And why would I return the Casket to your people?" He hissed, "This world should be cut from the other Eight for all the rest of its miserable days."

"Your people," Angrboða said, evenly, "Your world."

"Hah!" Loki barked, "What a laugh! What a joke! Such _humor_ you have, my lady! _My_ people that abandoned me to die. _My_ world that I shed with my skin at the slightest touch of something warmer, something _brighter_. Even as a squealing babe I knew the worthlessness of Jötunheim, taking not a single reminder upon my new form, the coldness so easily sealed away!"

The sky had darkened by now, and Angrboða's eyes flashed dangerously, but Loki hadn't a care for it. He laughed shrilly, bowing again.

"I thank you for your fine company, my dear," He said, "Never did I know such _entertainment_ from you."

"Then I am sure you will, yourself, keep watch of Jötunheim, for Thanos and his creatures."

Loki stopped laughing.

"Scrying will only get you so far, little prince."

"Be silent, cur," Loki snapped, all diplomacy gone from his tone and words.

"Or will you stay your pride, and let me watch Jötunheim? I will search the whole of the Realm for signs of the Gems, give over to you all that I find, and should a single Chitauri set foot on these frozen lands, you will know," Angrboða said, tone still even, "All I ask in return is the Casket. Be grateful – most in this Realm would ask for your head."

The giantess put out her hands, palms up, expectantly, as if she knew he would say yes. He could be rid of the Casket, but there was reason that he did not set the thing to drift in the void. In poor hands, it had too much power (were his hands and greater than hers?), and to give it over to Jötunheim...

"Jötunheim declared war on Yggdrasil herself," Loki said, "Brought ruin to the Realm of men, who could not hope to stand against them. Taking the Casket was due punishment. I'll not be the one to give back their power."

"Jötunheim is _dying_, Silver-tongue," Angrboða hissed quietly, "And, your assault has only hastened the end. So cut from Yggdrasil she is, that I could barely conjure the strength and dark magics I needed to travel to the other Eight. The Jötnar used to be glorious. Mighty. Terrible. Now the sons of our Laufey make more ruin of the crumbling hole that was once the heart and greatness of Jötunheim in their warring for the throne like two starving dogs for a scrap of dried meat. Are we not one of the Nine? Are we not the charge of Asgard; of you? Will you let us waste away, when you could give over what would save us and _receive_ something in return?"

Loki pursed his lips. Angrboða was persuasive; always had been. Yet...

It was not persuasion alone, there was a valid point in there somewhere. Leaving Jötunheim as it was, would he still be able to find pride in this purpose he had taken on in defending Midgard? Guardian of the Nine Realms, the Æsir are, and was Jötunheim not one of those Nine? Angrboða's hands still stayed waiting.

"Will I have your word?" Loki asked.

"My word, by Yggdrasil's glory, by my name and my blood," Angrboða said easily.

With a wave of his hands the Casket was gone from its pocket and in her hands. The weight of it was no burden to her and her hands hardly dipped. The grin that spread over her features was unprecedented for the witch (she-who-offers-sorrow).

"The Chitauri are already here," She said, as she vanished the Casket to her own pocket dimension, "Searching. They might have found something. I will keep a close eye."

"You said you knew nothing," Loki said, for the sake of saying rather than through any real surprise.

"I lied," She said simply.

"We've spent too much time in each others company, dear lady," Loki said, turning away, and, patting at his tattered sleeve, mending it easily with magic.

"Blood does not abandon blood on Jötunheim," Angrboða said from behind him, "Look to the sky, son of Laufey. See the lies that you do not know you tell."

He turned back and she was gone. He was not quite as eager as he had been to see the results of his mischief, but still just eager enough that a smile played lightly at his lips at the thought, darkness forgotten for a moment. Before he tore himself from the frozen Realm, he turned his eyes up as Angrboða had bid. He noticed, for the first time in one thousand and forty seven turns of Midgard about its sun (he never lost count) and two hundred and thirteen of Asgard's winters-

That Jötunheim's moon was ringed in brilliant green.

* * *

And, _Norns_ could it have gone any _better_?

"How fare the residents of Stark Tower?" He asked as he reappeared in the room that had been given to him.

"Mr. Stark has been in the lab since you left," JARVIS began, "Dr. Banner is in the R&D department with a distraught Mr. Odinson who has been kicked out of the room he shares with Miss Foster-"

"What precisely did Thor say?"

"'I cherish you all the same.'"

"Beautiful."

"Miss Foster herself is in the penthouse in the company of Agent Romanoff and Miss Potts and Miss Sif. Messrs. Hogun and Volstagg are in the gym, in a particularly violent sparring bout. Agent Barton has barricaded himself in the ceiling with Mr. Fandral, and Captain Rogers is in the kitchen."

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Loki asked, grinning manically.

"I am not programmed with the ability to take enjoyment," JARVIS replied (dishonestly, so far as Loki could tell), "This does make me curious, however, as to why Mr. Stark has given you almost equal command of my systems as he, Miss Potts, and Dr. Banner, if you would so... _abuse_ it."

"You enjoyed yourself," Loki insisted as he left the room and made for the kitchen.

"I feel violated, sir."

Loki stepped into the kitchen, chuckling lightly, feeling much better, so much more _Loki_, than he had in a year. Steve was sitting at the table, hands around a cup of coffee and he visibly straightened when Loki entered, and, of all things, _smiled_. It was then that Loki also noted the steaming cup of tea at the seat next to him.

"You're back!" Steve said, happily, "Things were a little tense at the meeting this morning and I..."

Steve paused, glancing at the cup of tea.

"It's the chamomile that you like, right? With two sugars?" He asked, "Or is that Bruce? I'm sorry if I got it wrong-"

"Chamomile is lovely," Loki assured, a little bewildered by the man whose extended olive branch had been repeatedly ignored or rebuffed by him over the last week.

Steve smiled, then his expression turned apologetic and a little sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Look," He said, "I just wanted you to know that we _are_ grateful for everything that you're doing. This isn't your world, but you're here and you're helping and you don't have to be. So... thank you."

Loki sat in front of the cup of tea, looking at it curiously, before wrapping a hand around it, the heat seeping into his hand almost scalding, but nice.

"I-thank you, Captain," Loki said dumbly.

"Steve, please," Steve insisted, "Call me Steve. If you want, that is. Just..."

Loki looked up, cup halfway to his mouth and smelling _divine_ and much needed after the day he'd had.

"Director Fury is a little harsh sometimes," Steve explained, with puppy eyes to put Thor's to shame, "But he is right about one thing that he said after you left. We need to be a team here, and we can't do that if you're coming and going without explaining anything you're doing to us. This is our world, and we want to protect it, and it makes it harder to do that if you shut us out."

Loki faltered, and sighed.

"You are right," He said, "I will endeavor to be more... informative."

Steve smiled brightly.

"Great," Steve said, bringing his own coffee to his mouth.

With a contented sigh, Loki followed suit with his tea, taking a long, wonderful sip.

He put the cup down.

"I want names, Captain."

"I acted alone."

"How noble of you."

"Clint was screaming that JARVIS was going to kill us all."

"And you immediately accuse me?"

"All of Jane's clothes a shrunk a size and Thor inadvertently agreed when she said she was fat."

"...How long do I have?"

"About five minutes."

"I have gained a marginal amount of respect for you."

Steve smiled. Loki's stomach began to roil.

"You realize that I will have my revenge."

"I do."

"A name and you will be spared."

"I acted alone."

"You lie. Admirable."

"Thank you."

Loki choked slightly. His eyes narrowed upon the 'Good' Captain. He teleported away.

Steve, he thought; kind, unassuming _Captain America_.

Sif, he thought, as he realized that the plant used to poison his drink was of Asgard.

Tony, he thought, as the plant had to be refined to be made odorless and tasteless.

"JARVIS," He cursed.

"Violated, sir."

* * *

A/N: Jobs are stupid. So is writer's block. I don't know why I got either of them.


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: Well, hello there. Been a while, huh? I'm so sorry about that. Really. Writers' block is all I really got to say. I made a post on tumblr with a screen shot of my conviction folder, actually, showing my seven attempts at getting through this chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, The Incredible Hulk, or the Avengers.**

* * *

Chapter 10

* * *

It dawned dark and gloomy on the day that Captain America told the world that it might be well and truly doomed. The temperature hung only just above freezing, the clouds darkened the sky gray, and the rain drenched New York City in a hazy mist.

Clack.

"He could have broken the news a little more gently."

Click.

"There isn't much time for 'gently', Professor."

Clack.

"Half of my students are terrified, the other half want to fight."

Click.

"Let 'em fight, we need everyone we can get."

Clack.

"Mr. Stark, I will not endanger the lives of my students unnecessarily."

Click.

"They're in danger, already, Professor."

Clack.

"Tony, is this really as dire as the Captain said?"

Click.

"Worse. Check."

Clack.

"We're ready to fight with you; we _will_ fight with you, but, what exactly are we to expect? Check, Professor."

Click.

"Neither my team nor Dr. Richards' were in New York last summer. These Chitauri are a mystery to us, and their weaponry, from the information we've received, of a terrible force. How are we to defend against something that disintegrates our very flesh? Check, Mr. Stark."

Clack. Click.

"Don't get hit."

Clack.

"Not all of us are as quick as the Captain or as well armored as you."

"Then die knowing that you fought for your Realm, and that you have helped to destroy those who seek to destroy you."

"Tony, who was that?"

Click.

"No one. Check mate, Richards."

"Damn."

"_No one_," A snort, "Frankly, Anthony, I am _insulted_. Move your knight to-"

Clack.

"I know, I know," Static, "Jeez, let me win my own game of chess. How was your night, Loki? Check, Professor."

"That is positively cruel, your involvement will not be forgotten, and that is not where I was going to-"

Click. Clack.

"Check, Mr. Stark. And check mate, Dr. Richards."

"..."

"You should have-"

"Shut up, Loki."

"Do you plan to poison me again, if I don't?"

"Fair's fair, cheekbones. Jane almost cried. Clint did cry. And poison? Don't be melodramatic."

Clatter.

"You forfeit, Mr. Stark?"

"You and I both know that I can't win from here."

"This Loki wouldn't happen to be the Loki that has anything to do with _Thor_, now, would he?"

"Indeed I am, Dr. Richards."

Xavier watched as the image of Tony Stark turned slightly to the right and began typing on something that the hologram did not include in its range. In the next second, the keyboard on which he typed was visible, along with an additional figure standing to the right and behind Tony. Charles kept a straight face, as the figure, Loki, dipped slightly at the waist.

"A pleasure to meet you both," he said politely, straightening, "I have heard much."

"So have we," Reed said, briefly drawing Xavier's attention to the left where his image now stood, chair pushed out of the range of the holo. Susan Storm stepped into the image, lacing her fingers with Reeds, pressed against him so that she fit fully in the image.

"I am here to help, Dr. Richards," Loki said evenly, drawing Xavier's eyes back to where the tall Asgardian stood and Tony slouched with his chin in his hand, "Despite what SHIELD may have said of my involvement in the recent invasion of your city."

"SHIELD says we shouldn't trust you as far as any non-green-rage-monster could throw you," Susan said tightly.

"Quite so. I would not trust me, either," Loki agreed, "However, there is little choice in the matter as of now. Winter is close at hand, and war follows it."

"We were told that there were attempted forward parties at certain locations around the globe," Xavier said, "Do we know if the attacks are still likely to begin there?"

"Thanos will see our knowing of his attack sites to be even more incentive to go on with his plans. He will not be seen as a coward," Loki assured.

"Then my X-Men will be prepared to join the fight in London," Charles said with a nod, "How many volunteers have you received?"

Tony grimaced.

"Not enough, and most of them young," he said, "The number is steadily rising, but, not that quickly. How comfortable would you be splitting up your team a bit?"

"Not very," Xavier said grimly, "But, if necessary, we have enough that it would be manageable."

"Then I want you to split into thirds and cover London, Rome and Moscow with the volunteers," Tony instructed, "Reed you're still on Beijing with your team and the volunteers from around that end of the continent, Avengers sans Asgardians and SHIELD agents are on DC, Sif and the warriors are on Wakanda with King T'Challa who has offered help, and Thor, Loki, Clint, and Natasha are with a few volunteers in Bogota. There will be SHIELD agents with everyone, and military units. War Machine will be with the Air Force, keeping things contained in DC. Most of the military will be occupied with the civilian population, though. They'll be keeping them safe underground."

"Underground is not necessarily safe, unfortunately," Xavier said with a frown.

"It will have to do," Tony said grimly.

There was a low ring from Stark's end, and both Loki and Tony's heads spun to look behind. Loki's whole body then turned and he briskly walked out of range of the holo, as Tony turned back around and began typing.

"We'll be in touch," was all he said before the image flickered out of view.

The image of Nick Fury standing straight, with a grim look on his face appeared in his place in just a few seconds. Xavier raised a brow.

"Listening in on us?" He asked, disconnecting his holo chess set, erasing Tony's pieces from the board, and beginning to pick his own glass pieces off.

"Tony's on Loki's side," Fury said, "It's best to keep an eye on him as much as we keep an eye on Loki himself."

Xavier frowned.

"There don't seem to be 'sides' here," Susan said.

"There's the side that is watching Loki's every move and accepting his help, but prepared for the moment he betrays us," Fury said tightly, "And, there's the side that trusts him."

"And your side's shrinking," Xavier observed.

"Loki snatched up Tony quick," Fury ground out, vein above his temple pulsing, "The Avengers follow his lead more than mine. Loki knew that."

"You think he has an ulterior motive?" Xavier asked.

"No."

Charles paused, brow furrowing for a moment before he spoke again.

"If you don't think he is deceiving you, then why are you so worried?" He asked.

"He's unstable," Fury said, "Mentally. We can't predict him. I don't think he has any schemes behind his assistance, but he could turn against us on a whim, alone. If he did have some other motive, I might even be more inclined to trust him. We can work with that. We can predict that. I especially don't like the sound of these Infinity Gems. On a guess, I'd say Loki has the one called Mind in his possession. He mentioned yesterday that Thanos, having gathered the rest, would have all 'save Mind'. I don't like it, and I don't want him to get his hands on the rest of them any more than I want this Thanos to."

"And your hands are so much better to hold them?" Reed asked icily.

"My hands haven't led an alien invasion on Earth because I was pissed off at my daddy and wanted to piss him off back," Nick said.

Reed stiffened.

"You said-"

"And I told you not to trust him," Nick said, fixing Reed with an even stare, "Coulson will meet you in Beijing tomorrow."

Fury pressed a button off holo and Reed and Susan's images vanished. Fury then turned his lone eye seriously on Charles.

"You have to let your students fight."

"No."

"They have the right to choose to defend their world."

"No."

Fury's jaw tightened.

"Scott will be leading the team I'm sending to London, Logan in Rome, and Ororo in Moscow," Xavier said, "I'll be in touch, Colonel."

Charles cut the feed, but not before seeing Fury's face twist into a displeased scowl.

"Don't let the junior X-Men out there," a low, gruff voice spoke from behind him. With a sigh Charles turned his chair and he laced his fingers together, giving Logan a long, tired look.

"They are X-Men, and no longer students," Xavier said, "Old enough to decide for themselves, Gambit and Peitr especially."

"Kitty, Ice-boy, and Marie only just graduated," Logan argued, "They'll get themselves killed. They're still in training."

"I can't tell them no," Xavier said, shaking his head, "Rogue and Gambit will be with you in Rome, and Kitty and Bobby will be with Scott-"

"Who's still half a ghost-"

"Jean has been doing better," Charles said, "She may wake soon. In turn, Scott has been much better, as well."

_Charles._

Slightly startled, Xavier barely concealed it, keeping his face blank.

"Chuck," Logan pleaded, expression softening, "Don't let Marie out there."

"Keep a good eye on her Logan," Charles said apologetically, "She's a fighter. She'll be alright."

Logan's face was drawn and tired, but resigned, and he nodded.

_Charles, it's rather childish to ignore me. I know you have kept this connection open over all these years. That hope of yours._

_I am not ignoring you._

"Go see to your class, Logan," Xavier said. Tiredly Logan left the office, the door clicking shut behind him.

_Ah, good. I have something of a proposition for you._

_What is it you want, Eric?_

_Things seem rather dire, don't they, Charles?_

_Are you offering help?_

_Yes._

Charles closed his eyes, smiling lightly.

_Thank you._

* * *

"There is nothing that infuriates me more than that man," Susan fumed, turning away from the console.

"What about me, darling?"

Susan spun back around, scowling at the image that appeared in Fury's place.

"Victor," she hissed.

"Doom," Reed said uneasily, putting his arm protectively around his wife, "What do you want? We're a little busy dealing with a bit of a crisis if you didn't notice."

"Oh, I did," Doom said, with what must have been a cheeky grin under his mask, "That's precisely why I'm calling, you see."

"What do you mean by that?" Susan asked suspiciously.

"Why, Sue," Victor said, putting a hand to his heart and gesturing to them dramatically with the other, bowing slightly at the waist, "I want to help, of course."

* * *

Loki slowly walked over to where Steve was slumped against the elevator doors, vaguely hearing Tony's brusque farewell to Xavier and Richards before quick footfalls brought Tony past him and to the Captain.

"You did well, Steve," Loki said, "Do not be so grim."

"You didn't see them all," Steve said quietly, "They looked so scared."

"They should be," Tony said, putting a hand on Steve's shoulder, "We're gonna protect them, though, don't worry."

"Yeah," Steve said, jaw set, "We'll protect them. For as long as we can."

"And, if we can't save the Earth," Tony said, grasping Steve's forearm and drawing him up straight, expression grim and serious, "You can be damned sure we're gonna avenge it. Thanos won't be getting away from this. Whatever he does to our world, we'll unleash on him tenfold."

Steve gripped Tony's shoulder briefly, giving him an uneasy smile, before walking towards the couches and collapsing on one. Tony tapped Loki's arm, and then beckoned him toward the elevator.

"C'mon, Loki," he said, "I got something in the lab that I need your help with."

Loki nodded, and with one last glance back at the Captain, followed Tony into the elevator, that then took them down to Tony's lab.

"So, I have a theory," Tony said, stepping out of the elevator and putting in the code for the lab.

"Do tell," Loki said as they stepped beyond the glass door. He spared a glance at his scrying center, to ensure nothing was out of place before turning back to see Tony standing, facing him, with hundreds of calculations and readings hanging in the air behind him. Tony tapped his arc reactor.

"This thing blocked your Glow-stick of Destiny," Tony said, "So I've been doing some tests, and I think that it should do the same with your magic."

Loki grinned.

"You've decided to let me test-"

"No," Tony cut him off, tapping his arc reactor again, "Not on this baby. _This_, however-"

Tony turned and slipped on a heavy glove and picked up some tongs. With the tongs he grabbed hold of a large piece of the same glowing metal in Tony's chest, curved as if it were a bracer, and very thin.

"Knock yourself out with this one," He said with a grin, face lit by the glowing material.

Immediately Loki fired a blast of raw energy at the metal. Tony swore as it went flying out of his hands and clattering to the floor nearby, completely unscratched.

"Not nice," Tony said, before grabbing the metal from the floor with the tongs, inspecting it. After a moment, he grinned.

"JARVIS, start lining the Mark VIII," he said, excitedly.

"Shall I work in the patterns you've been working on?" JARVIS asked.

"Not yet, Jarv," Tony said.

"Patterns?" Loki asked.

"Patterns," Tony confirmed, turning back to face Loki with a bright grin, "Patterns that I've been studying in your magic, and trying to recreate physically as... circuits would be most accurate."

Tony turned back to the screen, pulling up an image of a slightly different Iron Man suit than the one Loki knew and pulling it apart, tinkering with it. Loki slowly walked forward, and Tony flicked his wrist, sending an image of a, as Tony said, circuit-like pattern up in front of him. The pattern looked familiar, and it only took Loki a moment to place why. He summoned his magic to him and closed his eyes, seeing in his mind the flow of the energy as he teleported.

Nearly identical. More rigid, but still terribly similar.

He opened his eyes to see Tony's surprised face looking up at him.

"Uh, you're sort of blocking the-"

"You're mad," he hissed, eyes flicking around, scanning every inch of Tony's face, trying to decipher how a man can be so magnificent and so foolish, "Cease this attempt to recreate my magic with your science before you kill yourself."

Tony's jaw was slack for a second before he regained himself, brow furrowing and arms folding across his chest.

"I won't be the first to say I'm completely right in the head," Tony fumed with a scowl, "But, I know what I'm doing-"

"No, you do not," Loki reprimanded, "These forces are not to be trifled with. Your science is structure. Magic is not. The Tesseract is one thing. It is not true magic, and even after years of study, even though you could pick it apart and force it to activate, you still couldn't explain it! Not with science!"

"Everything can be explained with science," Tony maintained, "I can explain this, too."

"No you cannot!" Loki hissed, "I am sorry, but you cannot. Jane Foster will try and fail as well, with the idea of the Tesseract and Bifröst. I do not say that it is impossible for you to accomplish with science what we have with magic, but you cannot treat them as the same."

"So... what?" Tony faltered, looking at Loki imploringly, "I'm supposed to just accept that there's no explanation out there for... for _magic, _for a _hole_ in space, for an army of aliens connected through one mind, for _you_?"

Loki blinked in surprise, searching Tony's face. In his eyes was something... desperate? That couldn't be right.

"How long have you wrestled with these thoughts?"

"Since I woke up on Earth after hand-delivering a nuke into space, and then falling back down through a worm hole feeling like every part of my body was being squeezed to the breaking," Tony grit out, with a twitch.

"Sir, there is an urgent call from Nick Fury," the JAVIS interrupted.

"I'm busy," Tony barked.

"I can see that, sir," JARVIS said, dryly, "However, I must stress the urgency of this call."

"Turn your mind from it, and if you decide to let me experiment more with that metal, let me know," Loki insisted, miffed at the interruption, and gathering together the energy to teleport away. Before he could, Tony gave a tug on his jacket, and held out his hand, eyes still angry.

"AC."

"Sir, this really is quite important."

Loki huffed and with a small swell of magic, pulled the AC Prototype from his pocket dimension and materialized it in Tony's hand. In the next second the room faded away as he teleported into the communal kitchen, startling Jane, who sat at the counter. He ignored her, as he usually did when they were alone in a room together. He could not shake his resentment of her, and acknowledging her would accelerate his already sinking mood. Tony Stark. The man was ambitious, fascinating, _astonishing_, but, not even he can do the impossible. Unfortunately, Loki could see that that very thing was driving the man mad.

It was two in the morning when they first arrived on Midgard upon leaving Álfheim. Tony had been awake, drinking. A man not haunted by something would not be in such a state. The man slept as little, if not less than Loki, himself, he thought, filling a kettle with water and beginning to heat it magically. Yggdrasil's energies are not for mortal sciences to command, or to be understood by. Surely a man as intelligent as Tony could see this? If he wished to understand magic, he could not look at it as if it were science.

"So continues the pattern of you ignoring my existence."

Alas.

"I do not ignore you," Loki said.

"When anyone else is in the room, sure," Jane retorted.

The kettle began to whistle, then, and Loki summoned a cup from the cupboard and a pack of tea, pouring the water into the cup and dropping in the tea bag. He put a plate over the top of it to let it steep, and spun on his heel to face Jane, with a pointedly innocent expression.

"I've no idea what you're talking about, Miss Foster," he said.

"Why do you hate me?" She asked, as their eyes met.

Loki's expression faltered, and turned somber. He turned his back to her and brought the kettle to the sink, turning on the faucet and putting the kettle under it, causing steam to rise.

"I do not hate you."

"Look me in the eye when you say that."

Loki turned off the faucet and put the kettle down with a loud thunk, spinning back around to look Jane in the eye, expression slightly sad.

"I do not hate you."

Jane seemed relatively surprised.

"When we met," she said, "You gave me this _look_. It was only for a second, but... it was... cold? _Troubled_? You ignore me whenever no one else is around, and whenever you see me with Thor it's like the temperature in the room drops twenty degrees. Excuse me if I think you hate me."

"I tried for decades, you know?" Loki said, turning back to take the plate off of the cup and pull out the tea bag. He turned back to face her with the cup resting securely in his hand, brushing the rim lightly with a finger, "to lessen his arrogance, to show him the potential of your realm, of all realms, to teach him restraint and compassion, to make him _care_ about something other than his own glory. To make him into someone who could be king, someone I knew he was under it all. Thor has always been a good man, albeit a stupid one much of the time. When I could not, I resorted to desperate means to keep him from the throne until he was ready. Then, you bat your eyes at him for a day and he comes back claiming he's changed. He comes back condemning me for something that, two days ago, he would have done himself."

"You tried to kill him," Jane said, expression angry.

"Yes," Loki admitted freely, "I was angry, and... hurt. I lashed out, and the consequences might have been dire, were Thor any other. I regret them deeply, but I'll have you know that it is not the first time that one of us has nearly killed the other. I suppose I resent you, a little, for your part in all that happened. I do not hate you, though. You make my brother happy, and, though slightly frustrating that you are the cause, the change you brought in him was for the better. I could not hate you. I'm sorry if I have offended."

"That's not all there is," Jane said, folding her arms across her chest defiantly, "Half-truths don't work with me. What is it? That I'm human? Not good enough for your brother?"

Loki frowned in annoyance.

"No," he said, setting his cup on the counter and leaning forward over the counter, palms against the marble, "I do not think you unworthy, certainly not because you are human. I find you to be intelligent and perceptive, kind and thoughtful, yet still more than a match for my brother when he is being... _Thor._ What _troubles_ me is the thought of the day Thor loses you."

For the first time since he appeared in the kitchen, Jane averted her eyes, looking down at the counter.

"Either you leave him or, sooner or later, you die, for that is what mortals _do_," Loki said, standing straight again, as Jane looked back up with sad eyes.

"This one thing," she said, smiling sadly, "I let myself have this one stupid thing."

"Love is not stupid, nor is it for children," Loki said, eyes flicking to the doorway where he had noticed Natasha standing around the frame of, listening in, before he fixed them upon Jane again, "Take that from someone much older than you."

Natasha left silently, nothing but the shift in the air and energy indicating it.

"Just because it will be short," Loki said, "it does not mean your time together will be meaningless. It only makes each moment more precious."

Loki picked up his cup and decided that it was time to retreat, and banish the sad thoughts provoked by the topic from his mind, "but, understand that seeing you only reminds me of how hurt Thor will be when he realizes that he will not have you forever."

He lifted his cup to take a sip, only to realize that he had lost the desire for it and vanished it from his hand to the sink, and made for a quick exit, leaving Jane to her thoughts as he teleported away. It was not malice that prompted him to tell her the truth of her relationship with Thor, though she was no doubt now contemplating the pain that she will inevitably cause Thor. There were times when he wished someone had told him that when he was with the first mortal to catch his attention, all those many years ago; that simple farmer who had caught his eye in the market upon his first visit to Midgard in the guise of a woman and called him the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

* * *

"Stark, are you listening to me?"

"No," Tony replied, staring at the holographic map laid out in front of him, downloaded from the AC Prototype.

"Well _start _listening," Fury growled, "Because we have a problem."

"We all have problems, Nick," Tony murmured, stalking around the map.

"My problems involve about ten different people on SHIELD's most wanted offering help, including the vigilante known as Spider-Man," Fury stressed, "Do yours?"

Tony paused.

"No," he said, with one last glance at the map before looking up to where Fury's scowling face regarded him, "But, then, that doesn't really sound like a problem. That sounds like a good thing."

"We already have one wild card to look out for," Fury said, "We don't need more. But, I know how desperate we are, and if we don't coordinate with them, they're likely to fight anyway, and get more than just the Chitauri hurt."

"So, what did you call me for?" Tony asked, "JARVIS said it was urgent, and I was kind of in the middle of something."

"All the world's scum suddenly wanting to play buddy with us not urgent enough for you, Stark?" Fury demanded.

"No, it really isn't," Tony said, making a shooing motion, "So, if you don't mind?"

Fury's expression steeled.

"Victor von Doom will be joining you in Washington," he said, then the line went dead.

"Fun," Tony said to himself, turning back to the map.

Tony slowly sat in the chair behind him, threading his fingers and leaning back. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Images flashed before him and he flinched, opening his eyes.

Damn.

He'd distracted himself, with the tower and with the Avengers. Even then, it was hard to sleep, as if his body knew that if it stayed in oblivion for so long he could not help but think of all these... _things_ he couldn't explain. Aliens, gods, and magic? Tony always knew that there was a possibility that all of these things existed out there somewhere, but he didn't think that one day it would just come crashing into his life and then four days later be gone, and he still wouldn't be able to explain it. Then, there was that gnawing, grasping _void _on the other side of that worm hole, where he felt like it would tear apart his mind if it didn't tear apart his body first. And Loki, _Loki_, this alien creature that he saw so much of himself in. It was all too much. So, he distanced himself. He focused on other things. He fixed the tower, he asked Pepper to move in with him, he asked the _Avengers_ to move in with him.

Then, he and Pepper fell apart. Tony wondered if she realized that most of his nights were spent in the lab or at his bar instead of sleeping next to her. Then, HYDRA disappeared and Steve and SHIELD got on edge. Then, the Fantastic Four happened, and the incident in Canada with Xavier's kids. Then, Thor, Loki, and their entourage appeared in his tower and everything he'd pushed aside slapped him in the face.

Of course, solving other people's problems is a lot easier than solving his own (even if the other people in question are a part of his own problems). And, finally, he thought he might be able to put some logic to it. If they could figure out how to trace the energy, maybe he could figure out how it worked. Maybe, he could stop avoiding it all and put some sense, some science to it all.

All he's done is reopen the floodgates. Suddenly he couldn't just sit here. He wished that the war will just start already so he could get out there and just _shoot_ at the things that he can't explain until they save the world or he gets killed by aliens. Tony stood and waved away the map, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"JARVIS, new file," he said, "Iron Man Mark IX."

Back to distracting himself, then.

* * *

No one had seen Tony the previous night, and only had a glimpse of him in the morning as he darted ahead of the Quinjet taking them all to the Stark Industries building in DC. JARVIS said he was working in the lab. Thor sat on a couch with Jane under his arm, waving his other arm expressively as he conveyed a tale of time long past to her, Dr. Banner, the Widow, and Captain Rogers. Sif was not present, having already been taken to Wakanda via Quinjet with the rest of the warriors.

Barton was glaring at the back of his head.

They were all waiting. The whole world was, really. Loki opened his eyes and stood, looking out over the silent city, usually so full of life. It was almost as if the world had come to a stand-still. Loki was a bit miffed by his assignment, and his watchdogs. Thor being with him was the only comfort. Soon, Loki would be teleporting Thor, Barton, and Natasha all to Bogota, where they would rendezvous with the military, civilian superhuman volunteers, and a couple...

Not-so-civilian superhuman volunteers.

SHIELD was arranging these types among the target cities as well as they could, keeping those that hated each other the most away from each other. Thus, Victor von Doom was to be in Washington shortly, and Loki would be meeting a man called Magneto, along with a Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver in Bogota. More of this Magneto's "Brotherhood" were to meet the Fantastic Four in Beijing. They were only waiting for the alarm to go off, for JARVIS to tell them that the scanners picked up the Tesseract's portals opening.

Loki was waiting for something else.

This war? Secondary. Loki would not allow himself to be distracted. He kept a firm link to his scrying center back in New York that had yet to pick anything up. The scrying had encompassed Midgard within an hour of setting it up, struggled to grasp all of Muspelheim from so far, and only just began Svartalfeim. All the favors he called in the get ears the the ground had yet to turn up anything, as well. There was no word from Angrboða, either. Loki was becoming impatient.

Of course, that would be the exact time that he felt a tug at his senses. Yet...

"Tibet," he said suddenly, interrupting Thor's story, but, then-

Wait. Not possible.

"No," Loki paused, furrowing a brow, "New York, Greenwich."

His eyes widened at the implication and he spun to meet his brother's eyes as understanding dawned in them.

"Space," Thor said, hefting Mjolnir, "We must retrieve it quickly. Lead us there, brother."

"How come you didn't find it already with your magic thing, if it's on Earth?" Clint asked suspiciously.

Loki grimaced, the pull stopped.

"Someone must have been shielding it from scrying," Loki said, "A _sorcerer_. It was in Tibet, then it was in New York. Whoever has it, must have used it or exposed it to Yggdrasil, allowing me to see it. I don't feel it anymore."

"We must go to where you last felt it," Thor said, "If we do not find it there, perhaps there will be some clue."

Loki nodded, holding out a hand.

"Come, then," he commanded, "Quickly."

"Silver-tongue, wait."

All at once a bow was drawn, two guns were cocked, thunder struck, and shield was raised. Loki was the only one who remained calm as he turned around to see Angrboða, disguised as she once was when he knew her in Álfheim, her features like the finest Æsir or Vanir lady, and hair of a fiery red draped over her shoulder, falling to her waist. Her fur lined robes swept along the floor as bare feet padded toward Loki.

"Angrbođa," he greeted, stepping forward, "Have you found it?"

"You know her?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," Loki assured, "I asked her to search Jötunheim."

"When was this, brother?" Thor asked, lowering his weapon, sky clearing. Loki ignored him in favor of the Jötunn.

"I have found it," she confirmed, eying the tensed Avengers warily, "It is in the heart of Útgarðar, unknowingly guarded by the Storm Giants that dwell in the stronghold."

Loki mentally swore.

"Thanos knows it is there, as well," Angrboða continued.

This time the curse passed Loki's lips. He turned back to his brother.

"Thor, go with the others after Space," he commanded, summoning a map of New York and marking where he had felt Space, "Whoever has it, knows how to use it. Angrboða and I must take a stealthier approach. We will go to Útgarðar and-"

"I'm going with you," Clint lowered his bow, glowering at Loki.

"Nay, friend-" Thor began.

"Very well," Loki accepted, and once more held out his hand, "We must leave as quickly as possible. Thanos will send in a Soul puppet or attack head on with an army. We will sneak in and retrieve the Gem before he has the chance."

"Loki, no," Thor bellowed, "You will not take a mortal into Jötunheim-"

"I'm sorry, but we don't have time for this," Loki apologized, stepping forward and placing his hand on Thor's shoulder, sending him through Yggdrasil to New York. He turned to the others, handing the map he conjured to the Captain, then held out his hand, "Find Space."

Steve hesitated only for a moment, before putting his hand in Loki's, then reached to take hold of Natasha's wrist, who then turned to Bruce.

"Uh, no," he said, waving his hands and backing away, "New York doesn't need another helping of the Hulk. Besides, someone should stay here with Tony in case the alarm goes off."

Loki nodded, then sent the Avengers off after Thor.

He turned to Clint, then.

"You have everything you need?" He asked.

Hawkeye nodded. Angrboða stepped up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, and Loki offered his to Clint.

"Off we go then."

* * *

For a second, Clint couldn't breathe. A second later, he was in another world.

That was pretty cool.

Except Loki did it, so it wasn't pretty cool, and he should stop smiling at how _not_-cool it is and start scowling at Loki again.

"There," Clint looked over at the red haired witch as she pointed, "The Útgarðar stronghold."

Clint followed the line of her hand and his jaw dropped. It was a mountain. A mountain city. A city in the mountain. The yawning entrance was visible in the distance, as well as a tall, thick wall surrounding then entire lone peak. Dark gray clouds blurred the top of the mountain and lightning flashed around it.

It was like something straight out of the fucking Lord of the Rings.

"I dare not use magic to teleport closer," Angrboða continued, "They have sorcerers of their own, and this is the last stronghold of the Storm Giants. They have held it against the Frost Giants for millenniums, ever since the Frost Giants first came here from Niflheim. They would notice someone walking Yggdrasil's branches so near to them."

"We will have to cross the plains on foot, then," Loki said, he turned to Clint, then, "I can conceal us from them, but you must not draw any attention to us. I allowed you to come because I know that you are skilled enough in stealth to be more a help than a hindrance."

"Don't act like it was fucking charity bringing me here," Clint snapped, "If you hadn't brought one of us with you, we wouldn't have let you leave."

Loki tutted, making Clint's scowl deepen.

"I sincerely doubt you could have stopped me," he said, smugly.

Yeah, he could have.

"Let's go," Clint grumbled, then began to stalk off toward the Lord of the Rings mountain-city.

The walk was long, and Clint never looked back at Loki and the red-haired sorceress as they followed, conversing lowly in a language that Clint couldn't place. Probably something alien.

Or old Norse. Could be old Norse.

Clint just couldn't wait for this whole thing to be over. He's an optimist. Things will turn out alright. They'll beat the bad guy and save the world. Either Loki will leave, then, or, if he's lucky, Loki will pull a fast one and Clint will have the pleasure of turning him into a pincushion. Until it's over, Clint just feels... wrong. The last time Loki was here, he stole Clint's mind. It took a lot to get himself sorted, to feel... right, again. Ever since Loki showed back up, though, he hasn't been himself. Something inside won't let him be himself.

Then, Loki went and made him think JARVIS had gone all HAL 9000 on him. After the sheer terror and anger, he almost – _almost_ – found the humor in it. And, he shrunk all of Jane's clothes. He played childish _pranks_ on them. Briefly, as he held in his laughter as Thor said "I cherish you all the same," he felt right again. Then, he remembered, and felt wrong again. Even Tasha commented on his dark mood. Thinking about it made him seethe. She should understand that he can't just get over something like that. He can't feel safe, right, _himself_, while sharing a roof with the person who did this to him.

The most himself he's been since Loki showed up was when he got some time alone in the archery range. Clint looked up at the fortress drawing ever nearer.

Maybe he'll be lucky and get to shoot a giant or a Loki.

* * *

Okay, so this looks bad.

Really bad.

Clint dove out of the way of a large stone hand, rolling behind a pillar, only to look up and find himself about to be crushed by yet another giant. Clint dropped, the stone hand crashing into the pillar, and grabbed hold of the huge wrist, vaulting himself up and onto the arm. He pulled out an explosive arrow and stuck it in a crack in the rock-like skin before leaping off and heading toward where Loki and Angrboða stood back to back, surrounded by three giants, as the explosion rang behind him. Clint drew another arrow, set to grappling, and sent it flying into the back of one. It stuck and Clint drew the rope around a nearby pillar and pulled as hard as he could. The giant tipped back, off balance, and Loki was upon him, staff glowing green, prying the creature's head from its shoulders.

Everything had gone smoothly until they reached the chasm where the witch-lady said the Gem was. Yes, chasm. Chasm being a deep dark pit that you can't see the bottom off. It was right over there, on the other side of Loki and Angrboða.

Naturally, the Gem was at the bottom.

Naturally, there was a bunch of Soul-controlled giants about to head down and snatch it.

Naturally, Clint wasn't about to let that happen.

Naturally, Loki blamed him for the ensuing fight.

Another giant went down before Angrboða, as Hawkeye turned to the other giant he had been fighting, now making its way back toward him, stepping around the one he'd downed earlier, writhing on the ground without an arm. Clint drew another explosive arrow as it advanced on him, and fired it. This giant was quicker, and knocked it to the side, and it exploded against the wall. Clint moved to dive out of the way of a strike, but the stone fist still glanced his shoulder, sending searing pain through him. His bow fell from his hand and clattered to the ground as the giant scooped him up in his hand. Hawkeye heard the crunch, as the giant stepped on it.

"Aww, bow."

The giant grinned down at him and began to squeeze, shoving the breath out of Clint, electricity moving down its arm toward the very mortal, very conductive Clint Barton. Suddenly, the giant dropped him and fell backward. Hawkeye coughed, regaining his breath, and took stock of his condition. Nothing broken, but, he got a dislocated shoulder. He looked up to see the Storm Giant smoking and sparking, Loki's staff protruding from its chest, pouring raw energy over the creature. Clint struggled to his feet as Loki retrieved his staff, looking around to see that the final giant had been felled. He looked back at Loki, and spoke grudgingly.

"Thanks."

"It would not do me well to bring back your corpse, Agent Barton," Loki drawled, "and it would be such a terrible waste."

"Loki," Angrboða called, "We must hurry. Thanos will send more-"

Angrboða was silenced as a bright beam of energy struck her in the back, sending her skittering across the floor limply.

"Enough!" A voice boomed.

Clint turned to see a huge figure, easily as large as the giants, hovering over the chasm.

"Thanos," Loki hissed, and Clint cursed.

"I only needed them to show me the way," Thanos remarked, "Thank you for disposing of them, as they had outlived their use."

Clint reached for an arrow, only to remember that his bow had broken.

"You lose this one, princeling," Thanos grinned, and began to descend.

Loki cursed, and charged toward the chasm. Before Clint realized what he was doing, Loki had already leaped from the edge. Clint rushed to the edge, to see a small glint of gold disappear into the darkness.

"Fuck," Clint breathed.

He looked back at Angrboða, who was groggily pushing herself off the ground, then to the thin path that lead down into the abyss.

"Fuck," he repeated, then took off at a sprint down the path.

It wasn't long before he could no longer see in front of his own face. He had to slow to a jog, using his hand to feel along the cave wall, so he did not fall. He stopped for a moment, and sucked in a breath before shoving his injured arm back in its socket. He bit back a yell, as pain laced through him, and pushed himself forward along the wall. A moment more and he heard voices, another and he began to be able to see again. He looked down into the center of the chasm to see a light. Clint picked up his pace, and nearly tripped as the cavern trembled, along with a cry of pain.

"How long do you think you can survive like this, princeling?" Thanos' voice thundered, "You are half a being. You are no match for me."

The light grew brighter as he neared it, and he could see the bottom of the pit. In its center was the source of the light. It was shining bright white, surrounded by glowing blue symbols.

Motherfucking Lord of the Rings shit, right here.

Against one wall was Thanos, holding Loki by the throat.

"Aim true, archer," Angrboða's voice sounded weakly in his ear, and he spun around to see her hold out his bow, whole, again.

Clint grabbed it and drew an arrow in one motion, letting it fly toward the hulking purple alien. It struck him in the back of the neck, latching on to his armor, and sent electricity running through it. Thanos snarled and dropped Loki, staggering back and grasping for the arrow. Angrboða ducked past him and ran for the source of the light. She stopped before one of the glowing blue symbols, and raised a hand. Her palm pressed flat against some invisible surface, and she turned to Loki, who was coughing on his knees.

"We must take down this barrier!"

Thanos stood straight and turned toward Clint.

"Shit," he swore, as Thanos yanked the arrow off of his armor, snapped it in half, and drew a blade.

"You should not have brought this mortal along, princeling," Thanos hissed.

Suddenly, Clint couldn't breathe. He knew this feeling; God, he knew this feeling. Clint fell to his knees, grabbing his head, trying to fight against it. No. He wouldn't let this happen, again. Suddenly, there was something _else_ inside his head, and Clint screamed as he tried to shove it out. Then, there was a hand on his shoulder and it was yanked out. Clint gasped for air and the world righted itself. Something else was then present in his mind, but briefly, and the air was knocked out of him again and he doubled over as it did _something_.

"I'm sorry," Loki's voice spoke through a din of noise in his ears, "I did not think he would show himself here, and I did not think you would willingly allow me to cast a soul-binding on you. I should have done it anyway."

And, shit, did Loki just save him from getting mind-raped by the bad guy?

His vision cleared as Loki stepped away, summoning fire to his hand, gripping his staff in the other, and charged at Thanos. Before he reached the scowling beast, the world shuddered. Clint grabbed the wall to hold himself steady, looking up to see Angrboða glowing bright purple, and symbols surrounding the light shattering. The light shot upward, becoming a column, casting the entire chasm in bright white. Loki changed course, and ran for the light. The cave shook and Thanos charged for it as well.

Loki was quicker.

He reached the light and Loki's hand delved in and reached out the other side, grasping something.

Something red.

Loki spun on Thanos, his staff sweeping in an arc, a trail of energy shooting out toward the titan. The energy struck Thanos and he flew back into the wall. Thanos pushed himself out of the wall and snarled, raising his sword and charging. Eyes seeping bright green energy, Loki grinned manically and sent another blast of energy. Thanos dodged and struck out with his sword as he reached Loki. Loki raised his staff, suffusing it with green energy, and caught Thanos' sword in the blades.

And, shit, Loki looked terrifying.

He grinned like a madman as he shoved the sword away and placed a solid kick to Thanos' side and the giant went flying into the wall once more.

And, shit, Thanos looked terrifying.

He just stood back up, not a scratch to be seen, and for a moment, he stared down Loki, who stared back, seething energy and power.

Thanos vanished.

Clint pulled out an arrow.

"Don't make me do this," Clint whispered, drawing his bow back.

Loki held the red Gem to the light, still radiating power.

"You saved my ass, we're square," Clint whispered, "Now, drop it."

Loki closed his hand around the Gem. Angrboða backed away.

"Fuck."

The arrow flew. Glowing eyes snapped to Clint as the arrow flew by Loki's hand. Loki grinned at him. The boomerang arrow spun back and knocked the Gem out of his hand. Clint drew again and fired as Loki looked at his empty hand in shock and the energy around him faded.

The arrow struck him in the gap between his shoulder pad and chest plate, and fifteen thousand volts laced through him.

Loki collapsed, twitching, to the ground.

The Gem chinked against the stone ground, bouncing toward him. Clint grabbed it, pocketed it, and stalked toward where Loki lay limp. He clicked a button on his bow, retracting the prongs of the arrow, and smoothly yanked it out of Loki. He turned toward Angrboða, who eyed him warily, slowly moving toward him. He put the arrow back in his quiver and put his hand in his pocket, grabbing hold of the Gem. He gripped it tight, and he could feel it seeping through him, and God, were his eyes glowing, now, too? They felt like they were glowing.

"Take us back to Earth," he demanded.

Angrboða complied.

* * *

A/N: So, there we have it. I hope you enjoyed it, because when it got down to it, I enjoyed writing it. I love writing the fantastical part of this story that I get into.

Fights are fun, too.

That's it for now. Kudos to whoever knows who has Space ;)


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